Empire of Remnant
by Quantum Knight
Summary: Overnight, the entire Empire was transported into the world of Remnant, within Salem’s own domain. Lieutenant Colonel Tanya Degurechaff will punish the Being responsible with cold steel and hot magic, along with anyone or anything that stands in her way.
1. Invasion

The diminutive Devil scrunched her nose as an icy gale whipped her cheeks. She'd been sure to glance at her calendar before rising from bed earlier that morning. July 12. The date burned in her mind as another burst of wintery air blasted its way into her lungs. She groaned, fiddling with her facial equipment in a vain attempt to block out some of the pain. She and her battalion had taken off that midsummer's morning far too rushed to ponder equipping warmer gear. Orders came down just as the sun came up. Apparently, HQ had been bombarded by a nonstop stream of frantic messages relayed from across the Empire's border throughout the night. Naval forces garrisoned along the northern coastline reported that the ocean itself had gone missing, replaced by coarse, barren soil, atop which the Empire's fleet now supposedly rested. Tanya couldn't stymie a quick chuckle when her superior had informed her of the development. Logic dictated that the men of the north had all gone mad. She'd relayed that explanation to the Colonel in no uncertain terms. Yet, here she was, at cruising altitude on a freezing July day. It was going to be a hell of a long one, at that.

Fiddling with numb hands, Tanya activated her short range radio. "Time to wake up. We're within 10 miles of the coast. The faster we lay eyes on the very existent ocean, the faster we go back to bed."

"Roger that, Colonel. Should we reposition into an offensive formation?" First Lieutenant Visha looked to her commander with tired eyes.

Tanya shook her head. "Negative, Lieutenant. No need."

Diverting additional magic to her flight equipment, Tanya increased her speed. The rest of the 203rd followed suit, tracking close behind. Get in, give the idiots in charge of the coastal defenses a hard knock on the head, and get out. The plan was how she liked it, simple and efficient. Squinting, Tanya focused on the map flailing wildly in her grip. If she'd gotten her math right, she and the 203rd Mage Battalion should've been within viewing distance of the coastline by now. Looking up, however, all Tanya saw was barren land outstretched as far as the eye could see, dotted by vague outlines of unfamiliar structures. Her heartrate picked up as her radio squawked.

"Colonel, pardon my saying, but this doesn't seem right. The ocean should be visible by now." Lieutenant Visha gazed at the alien landscape ahead with wide eyes. Tanya sighed as she reached for her weapon.

"Unfortunately, Lieutenant, it appears that there might be some truth to our superiors' baseless suppositions after all. Tighten up. We're headed for that small town." Tanya gestured to the haphazard collection of buildings her map identified as the coastal dwelling of Sterngurst. Readying their weapons, the remainder of the 203rd followed their commander into a descent path. As she drew nearer to the residency, the shrill ping of distant gunshots pierced Tanya's ears. She grimaced as one of her men relayed that they had heard the sound as well.

"Then we have to assume that the Empire has come under attack from a hostile force. Therefore, we are obligated by law to respond in kind. You are authorized to discharge weapons and spells at your own discretion." Tanya flipped a switch on her radio's transmitter, waiting a few seconds for the mechanical switch to cycle. Finally, the radio beeped, a long distance communication connection established.

"HQ, this is Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff. How copy?" She paused as static filled her ears. A few moments became half a minute, and Tanya repeated her message. Frustration mounted as she was again greeted by grating white noise. With a grunt, she switched her radio's frequency back to short-range communications.

"Lieutenant, I am unable to get through to Command. Either something is interfering with our systems, or all of our local long range communication towers are down. Either way, we're on our own. Be prepared for anything." Tanya felt her blood begin to warm despite the outside temperature. _Being X_. The name rang in her head like a funeral bell. The situation was too abnormal for _it_ to not be responsible. With that being the case, Tanya reasoned, literally _anything _was possible.

"Understood." Visha readied her rifle as the battalion neared the town. The sound of gunfire became clear, now mingled with a cacophony of shouts and screams. Plumes of black smoke billowed into the air from burning homes. Scanning the area, Tanya spotted a group of uniformed men huddled on a rooftop raining down a hailstorm of bullets at something on the ground out of her sight. She released a rapid burst of magic, closing the distance between them.

Her eyes widened as a jet black appendage spiked with crimson claws struck one soldier's chest. Nearly a meter long, they pierced through his spine, skewering red organs and dripping viscera. With a lurch, the appendage jerked the man from the rooftop and out of sight as his companions leapt off the opposite side, flinging their rifles away as they sprinted. Tanya 's breath quickened as she flew over the house, a blue eye trained down the sights of her automatic rifle. She put her finger on the trigger as the _thing _responsible for this massacre came into view.

The beast's fur, if it could be called that, was as black as coal, save for plates of what appeared to be ivory armor shielding vital areas. Standing atop two tree trunk like legs, the creature's knarlled head nearly reached the top of the house. It's head was pointed, with a defined jaw filled to the brim with shark-like teeth currently clamped around a gored leg. The torso of the deceased soldier remained attached to its forearms as it locked eyes with another approaching meal.

"What the fuck is that?" The crack of Lieutenant Neumann's rifle rang out as a bullet whizzed by Tanya's head. The round slammed into the creature's skull with a thud, and the thing staggered backwards. Tanya spared no time, littering the rest of the bear-like beast in a maelstrom of metal. The beast roared, clawing its bullet-riddled body in agony. As Tanya swapped out her empty magazine, the sound of additional rifles joined the fray from behind.

"Colonel, we've got multiple incoming!" Captain Weiss released two magically charged rounds into the mangled body of a wolf-like creature of similar ferocity, its legs splitting at the joints. Tanya growled as she emptied the second magazine into a pair of similar creatures, watching as they collapsed onto the ground in a black cloud of dust.

"Ascend, now!" Tanya applied a burst of magic energy to her flight suit as she propelled herself back upwards. Engines roared as her soldiers did the same, laying down a carpet of fire on the creatures writhing below. Tanya's eyes flicked as she scanned the burning town. Dozens of similar creatures were converging on the area, claws extended as they closed in on their prey. A storm of roars and howls filled the ashen air as some of the wolf-like beasts leapt onto houses in an attempt to close the gap, one nearly clawing the leg of an unsuspecting mage.

"Lieutenant Serebryakova!" Tanya applied a swift burst of munitions, the beast tumbling from the roof with a pained yelp.

"Yes, ma'am?" Visha circled back to her commander as she reloaded her rifle.

"We need to get a message to HQ, let 'em know we've been invaded by Hell itself. Locate this town's long range communication tower and get it up and running. Take as many men as you need." Tanya looked her lieutenant in the eyes, finding them wide with a healthy dose of fear.

"Yes, ma'am!" Her lieutenant gave a quick salute before she departed with a burst of magic.

Tanya bared her teeth as she riddled another bear-type monster with magic-infused rounds. The creature slumped to the ground, collapsing on the body of another of its kind as it began to dissipate. She inhaled deeply, attempting to reign in the cacophony of thoughts dancing in her head.

_Damn you, Being X! What kind of twisted fantasy have you concocted to torture me on this fine occasion? _

* * *

Her black fingernails scratched at the smooth windowsill, erratic and pained, like a caged animal. Queen Salem had the wisdom of a thousand lifetimes at her disposal. She'd witnessed the rise of kingdoms and nations, their cities constructed with blood, sweat, and tears. She'd seen them fall, burned away with hands marred in passion or lost to the sands of time. Whether a gift or a curse, Salem had wasted little of her infinite portion of time. Using her abilities and knowledge, she'd been able to raise an army of creatures so vile, their very mentioning struck terror into the minds of child and adult alike.

Yet, all that planning and all the wisdom gathered over the millennia had amounted to nothing in the face of what lay in the mirror. Her power gave her absolute control over the Crucible that she ruled, the dominance of her vision absolute. Today, however, the Queen wished for nothing more than to be blind. She'd thought that the Two Brothers had finally left her to her own devices, free to plot her revenge as she pleased. The unannounced appearance of an entire nation within her own borders proved otherwise.

Her nails dug deeper into the stone. Yesterday, she held the world on the brink of checkmate, her pawns positioned perfectly to gain control of what she desired. Now, she stood alone in an empty throneroom, and outside her window mere miles away lay an entire kingdom's number of humans somehow possessing _magic._ An individual Maiden held such power as to bring whole armies to her knees. It was the power of the Four Maidens that had prevented her from proceeding with her plans for untold centuries.

Her lips curled downwards as her brow furrowed. What unimaginable being could be so powerful as to make an entire nation of magic users spontaneously appear outside her doorstep? It couldn't have been any of the Maidens, nor even Ozpin himself. No mortal or immortal human possessed such unrivaled potential. So, the other option remained. The Brothers responsible for her immortal life of suffering; the ones who felt it appropriate to eradicate the human race and start over to cover up their failure.

Salem's fortress trembled around her as she grimaced, dark eyes filling with indignant rage. If the Beings who she'd dedicated her life to destroying were so bold as to position their forces so close to her own, well, Salem would be more than willing to meet them.

* * *

His white fingernails picked at the worn surface of his desk, jittery and fueled by far too much caffeine. Headmaster Ozpin held the memories of the hundreds of unfortunate souls he'd possessed over the millennia. He often asked them for advice before making an important decision, taking in each of their ideas in order to create the most ideal future. However, he was quite sure that none of them knew much about entire landmasses spontaneously generating overnight.

He'd been woken up by the shrill beeping of an angry Scroll, through which an equally enraged General Ironwood barked nonsense into his aching ears. The entire southern region of the Crucible, replaced by a foreign kingdom of unknown power? Ridiculous. Clearly, the good general's surveillance drones had malfunctioned. He knew of beings inhabiting Remnant with abilities that equaled or surpassed his own, but they were few and far between. Neither he nor they possessed the raw magical energy required to create whole population centers in an instant. There were only two Beings in the whole universe who could even be considered. But that was preposterous, he'd thought. The Brothers hadn't intervened in mankind's affairs since before Ozpin had been granted his immortality.

"Then see for yourself." General Ironwood pushed a button, transmitting his drone's stream to Ozpin's computer. The Headmaster sighed as he dragged tired eyes to the monitor. The General meant well, as Ozpin knew he always did, but never once did he believe the old soldier to have simply gone mad.

"General, I'm not entirely awake yet, so I'd appreciate it if you would put an end to this singularly unfunny prank." Ozpin pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, squinting at the footage unfurling on the screen. The bright rays of the early morning illuminated what should have been the barren wasteland of the Crucible. Instead of dusty rock formations swarmed by creatures of Grimm, however, Ozpin saw the rolling green hills filled the brim with vibrant and varied forms of life. A second drone transmitted a single image displaying what appeared to be a decently sized town defined by unfamiliar architecture. Little outlines of humans peered out of open windows.

"You know that I'm bad with jokes, Ozpin." Ironwood presented a compilation of images displaying various forms of decidedly military gear, including parking lots filled with crude tanks, soldiers training with outdated rifles, and one small fleet of ancient biplanes. The implication was not lost on the professor, who began scratching at his desk in earnest.

"Our drones have been able to collect all this data in just a few hours. They're armed to the teeth with outdated but powerful weaponry, and it's only a matter of time before some passing fisherman or pilot informs the all of Remnant." Ozpin rubbed his eyes as Ironwood stared back through his Scroll.

"General, you do understand that this is _impossible,_ correct?" Ironwood nodded as he let out a quick chuckle.

"Indeed. I would call this beyond ludicrous. However, the more time we waste wallowing in disbelief, the less we have to deal with this threat." Ozpin shook his head as he pressed a button on his landline phone.

"I would hesitate to label these newcomers as enemies so hastily. It's entirely possible that they're just as shocked and confused as we are." Ironwood curled his fist as his drones provided additional images of ammo storehouses and weapon caches.

"One would have to be delusional to think that a kingdom as armed as this possesses no ill intentions."

"The same could be said of Atlas." Ozpin smirked as he watched the General squirm for a short moment.

"Regardless, it's my duty to see to our defense. Would you have me do nothing?" Ironwood glared at his fellow Headmaster with dark eyes.

"Of course not. What I'm tryting to say is that this situation will involve a high level of caution on our part, lest we be the cause of an interdimensional war."

The heavy door to his study exploded open as a very tired and very annoyed Glynda Goodwitch stormed across the room. Ozpin raised a hand before the Huntress had an opportunity to voice her complaints.

"I apologize for summoning you at this ungodly hour, but I can assure you that it's well beyond urgent, Miss Goodwitch." Glynda crossed her arms across her chest, tapping her foot as she glared at the Headmaster. Ozpin rose to his feet, a hand wrapping around the tip of his worn cane. With a press of a button, he activated his desk's holoprojector, displaying a compilation of images alongside General Ironwood's own visage.

"Good morning, Miss Goodwitch. The situation at hand is... abnormal, to say the least."

* * *

Her bloodied nails clutched the wad of gauze tight as she finished tying the field bandage to a soldier's torn calf. Lieutenant Visha couldn't quite recall his name among his wails and the surrounding hail of bullets. She'd never been so outgoing as to be close friends with every Mage from the 203rd. Regardless, she put on her best smile, though she was sure that it looked more like a grimace.

"You're going to be alright. Rest easy, the Colonel's working on our plan of withdrawal already." Visha tore her eyes away from the soldier's agonized face. She was a notoriously bad liar, and it wouldn't do for her to be found out so easily. Instead, she jumped to her feet, retrieving her rifle from the ruined asphalt road. pillar. She scanned the area outside of the worn concrete hut behind her, sights trained on the roofs of smoldering buildings surrounding her position. She let out a deep sigh as she found none of the horrid creatures that had been streaming in from the north since her arrival. The rest of the Battalion must've been faring far better against them than her own hastily constructed team.

"Nuemann, what's your status?" Visha turned her head to the agape doorway of the squat building that housed Sterngurst's long range communication systems. Inside, Nuemann sat hunched over a box of electronics, his hands flying from one tool to another.

"Shouldn't be too much longer. Five minutes, max." Visha nodded, engaging her magic thrusters as she ascended above the low buildings. The crack of discharging rifles filled the dry, chill air as sparse fires raged in cheaply made dwellings. Mages soared across the sky, letting lose offensive spells at whatever vile creature came nearest. Visha frowned, having hoped there to eventually be some end to the torrent of beasts. The sustained firefight of the past half an hour seemed to only draw more towards the 203rd, however, and Visha's own team had already suffered casualties.

She gripped her thick jacket with a free hand, feeling her heart race through the layers of clothing. She inhaled slowly, running through practiced mental exercises. As the Commander often said, a panicked Mage was already halfway into the grave. She blocked out encroaching thoughts that she had no use for, channeling reserve magic into her rifle. She trained her sights on a small pack of the wolf-type monsters lurching towards the communication array. With another deep breath, she placed her finger on the trigger.

The air behind her exploded with a shrill howl, the sound driving spikes into her ears. Visha stumbled midair as she struggled to regain her balance, wheeling around to face the high-pitched, alien screech. Her mouth went agape.

The monstrosity cut the air with black wings, casting a shadow on the desolation below. Glowing crimson eyes bulged out of a pale, curved skull. A twisted, bony beak twisted out of its head, filled with rows of needle-like teeth. The avian beast's wingspan easily surpassed the length of a small destroyer. Visha readied her rifle, summoning the rest of her reserves. At the speed the creature flew, Visha determined she'd only be afforded the time for a single shot before she found herself impaled in the beast's maw.

_Even then, will my power be enough? _Visha's weapon shimmered, resonating with her power. The raptor-like beast let out a chilling screech in challenge, a mighty flap of its wings sending plumes of dust and ash in to the air. Visha ground her teeth as she grimaced.

_I can't kill that thing. My magic isn't enough to stop it._

_I'm going to die._

"Servants of the Lord, rejoice, for He has come to redeem us impure sinners, unworthy of His infinite mercy."

The Devil's eyes burned with golden fury. The crimson crystal affixed to her chest glowed as it channeled her rage, surrounding her small frame with a holographic targeting apparatus. She pointed her rifle downrange, the weapon alight with a rainbow of vibrant fire.

"God Almighty, let your justice shine upon these dark creatures. Burn them to cinder."

Golden light exploded from the barrel of her automatic rifle. A flurry of shinning bolts screamed towards the blinded beast, leaving a trail of twinkling dust in their wake. Each individual bullet split into six more, filling the sky with dozens of burning magical fragments. They slammed into the howling raptor's flesh simultaneously. The shockwave of the magical explosion shattered untouched windows below and threw plumes of ash into the air above. Visha covered her ears as she was pushed back by a thick cloud of smoke. Hot ash filled air filled her throat as she wiped her eyes free of dust.

She blinked the remaining tears away, her eyes locking on the cloud of black smoke floating where the monstrosity had been a moment before.

"Are you injured, Lieutenant?" Visha coughed as she turned to face the petite girl floating at her side.

"N-negative!" Visha struggled to stymie a cough as she rendered an awkward salute. Tanya frowned.

"Right." Tanya busied about filling a reserve magazine with the remainder of her rounds.

"At this rate, we'll run out of bullets before the one responsible for this assault runs out of monsters. Have we reestablished communications with HQ?" Tanya charged her weapon with a clack, turning to face the barren wasteland outstretched to the horizon.

"Affirmative, Colonel. They claim that the world is ending, and are requesting your confirmation." The pair of mages turned to face Lieutenant Nuemann, who hovered below with a small smirk on his lips. Tanya chuckled as she descended.

"They sure as hell have it."


	2. Investigation

"Colonel, just what in God's name is going on up there?"

Tanya's face curled as though she'd taken a bite out of an overripe lemon. She tapped on the worn wooden desk as she placed the radio's receiver close to her lips.

"What in God's name, indeed. The situation is as previously described. There's also the problem of hundreds, if not thousands of hell-beasts invading across our northern border."

General Zettour let out a drawn out sight, the sound emitted by the long range radio garbled and sharp. "Then the additional reports are correct. The northern reaches are utter chaos. Entire towns and the reserve units stationed within wiped out. How's the 203rd?"

The distant crack of artillery spells filled the Devil's ears. She raised heavy eyes to the door, finding Lieutenant Visha with her rifle readied toward the outside. Tanya sucked in the chill air through her nose. "Low on munitions, but operational."

The General grunted. "Very well. I'd request a more detailed report, but time is not on our side. Intel from the 217th suggests that these monsters will be in striking distance of Bornsig by nightfall. We'll be in a tough spot, should we lose our most valuable arms depot. Our initial response involves redirecting your battalion to defend it. Given our severe lack of both information and protocol regarding a situation such as this, however, I'd like to hear your thoughts."

Tanya leaned back in her chair, dropping her heals on the desk. She scratched her chin while she paused, glancing down at a wounded Mage propped up against the nearby wall.

"Given an ordinary scenario, I'd consider the protection of the Empire's resources tantamount, as well." Her hand clenched the receiver as her finger stopped. Her breathing quickened, the hot blood flowing through her veins dispelling the surrounding cold.

_"If I put you into the 'dire straights' you speak of, your faith will awaken?" _

Those old words reverberated in her skull. She grimaced. Being X. Of course, it had to find a way to up the ante. Apparently, being reincarnated as a child mage in an alternate World War was not enough to indulge its desires. The pompous bastard must've felt as though it hadn't yet done enough. It was all Tanya could do not to growl directly into the radio. "However, the enemy we face is far from ordinary."

A decade's worth of plans, burned to ash. The comfortable life she'd dreamt, evaporating away. It was as though a carefully crafted chess board had been torn from a table, the pieces scattering to the ground. There was only one entity who could be responsible, one she'd _force_ to take responsibility. It was one thing to curse the Devil, to place her into hopeless situations in an attempt to bring her to her knees in fearful adoration. It was quite another to break the rules of her game.

"There's no foreseeable end to this assault. Our adversary is both inhuman and unpredictable. No matter how long or how valiantly our forces hold out, I believe that it's only a matter of time before we capitulate to attrition."

The radio remained silent. Outside, an artillery spell slammed into a nearby warehouse, bits of rubble pattering against the communication bunker's window. The distant sound of a soldier's scream pierced Tanya's ears. Her grimace evolved, nostrils flared and eyes narrowed. Mages of the Fatherland, the most elite of their kind, falling to feral beasts. Necessary sacrifice, replaced by meaningless slaughter. The human waste left a bitter taste in Tanya's mouth. She'd earned victories for the Empire, expanded her borders and followed her often incompetent leadership's orders, all in a vain fight against an equally vain entity.

A moment passed. A thought bubbled up to the forefront of her mind. The corners of her lips curled upwards.

"Therefore~" Tanya leapt to her feet, her voice rising and falling in singsong. Visha turned her head, wide eyes locked on her commander. An iron lug of dread dropped into her gut.

The Devil of the Rhine grinned as she sauntered to the window, gliding on the tips of her toes. She reached a free hand towards the bright morning sun, blue eyes gazing into the heavens above. She took in one last deep breath of air, finding the sharp taste of blood and gunpowder sweeter than fresh honey.

"I propose we launch an immediate counterattack!" Visha blinked.

Tanya's smile widened as she curled her fist to the blue sky above. "These beasts must be birthed somewhere. My Mages and I can apply a surgical strike to their nest and eliminate this threat at its source. The longer we wait, the heavier our losses."

Zettour exhaled. "Somehow, I remain unsurprised. Colonel, we have no idea what now lurks to the north. Sending the 203rd on a blind suicide mission is not something for which I feel incredibly apt." Tanya's smile widened.

"What better recon force exists? The majority of these beasts are grounded. We need not engage them unless absolutely necessary."

The General groaned. "That being the case, you and your battalion are currently one of the Empire's most valuable assets. The other Chiefs of Staff would never agree to this gamble. They're still reeling from your little stunt in the Federation's capitol." Tanya placed a gloved hand on the receiver, turning away. She couldn't stymie a quick chuckle. It was all too easy.

Finally, she whispered into the cold receiver. "It's strange, how often orders fall prey to misinterpretation." White noise filled the room. Visha held her breath. Colonel Dugurechaff gripped the T-50 dangling from her neck.

The tired man on the other side of the radio sighed. "It_ is_ most unfortunate. That is why I will make myself abundantly clear." Tanya's smile waned.

"Your orders are to continue your investigation of this new threat. I will reassign the 217th and the 303rd to defend Bornsig. Am I understood?"

Her heart skipped a beat. Tanya barred her teeth as a smile exploded across her features. "Yes, sir. As you know, communications have been faulty. We may be unable to contact Command for some time." It was all the Devil could do not to jump up and sing.

Zettour harrumphed. "Understandable. Provide updates when able. Good luck, Colonel." The line went dead before Tanya could respond.

Lieutenants Visha stared with eyes like saucers at the smiling blonde girl. _What on Earth did I just witness? _

The Colonel placed a hand on her chin. A chuckle burst from her lips as she turned to face the horrified girl standing in the door way. "Any reservations, Lieutenant?"

Visha collected herself to the best attention she could manage. "None, ma'am!" Tanya nodded as she leapt to her feet, slinging her automatic rifle over a shoulder.

"Excellent. You heard the General's orders. We're to continue our investigation. Gather the Battalion in the town's center, I'll be there momentarily." Visha saluted before reaching down to heft the wounded man to his feet, escorting him out of the building and out of the Colonel's sight.

Tanya found herself alone in the cramped bunker, surrounded by cold dust and gray soot. A new feeling burned in her gut, however, one she'd been craving for as long as she'd walked the Earth in a girl's body. She doubted she could dim the smile on her face even if she tried. She clasped her hands together as she gazed upwards.

"Oh, God..." She breathed deeply as her eyes shut.

"Today's the day you die!" Her fists exploded apart as she trembled, pure ecstasy flowing through her veins. Her smile twisted and contorted like a snake writhing in agony. Coarse laughter slid out of her throat.

"At last, I have the opportunity to kill you with my own two hands. Your hubris is your downfall, Being X!" Tanya spun on her toes like a top, arms outstretched. If the entity claiming to be God was so bold as to call upon Hell itself to do battle, then the Devil would be more than happy to oblige.

* * *

The hot air blew against Ozpin's face, a stark reminder of how poorly his day was going. The sun had barely risen to its midpoint, and yet here he stood on the concrete slab connecting Beacon Academy with the outside word via Bullhead. The hovering contraption hummed directly into his ears, making it quite difficult to make out what the good Huntress beside him was saying.

"This is utter madness. We should've agreed with Ironwood. We're going to get ourselves killed." Ozpin shook his head, grinning.

"Nonsense, Glynda. In fact, I've got a feeling that this is going to go over quite well. They seem civilized enough." Glynda scoffed.

"You and your feelings. They're going to have each and every one of their guns pointed at us the moment we cross their borders." Ozpin nodded.

"That's certainly likely. However, I don't believe they're so rash as to pull the trigger unprovoked. That's part of the reason why we're leaving the General and his army behind." The rear hatch of the Bullhead dropped to the ground. The silhouette of a tall man with rugged hair stood imposed against the vehicle's bright interior. Glynda's mouth curled.

"Ah, if it isn't the good Qrow Branwen. Glad you could join us." Ozpin extended a hand to the approaching hunched over figure. The man with crimson eyes stared at the appendage for a long moment before reaching for a silver canister at his side.

"Glad you finally called. Must be pretty damn important. What's got Remnant by the balls this time, Ozpin?" Qrow brought the container to his lips, taking in a long swig of cheap alchohol. Glynda turned away as Ozpin scratched his chin.

"That's a bit of a difficult question, but we've got ample time to answer it. We're headed northwest, towards what should be the Crucible." Qrow raised an eyebrow as he lowered his liquor.

"What _should_ be the Crucible? You're not makin' a whole lot of sense here." Ozpin nodded slowly as he began moving towards the open Bullhead.

"I'm afraid that none of this really makes any sense to anyone. We're wading into uncharted territory and, quite simply, I need all the help I can get." Qrow and Glydna flanked the Headmaster on either side, matching his pace.

"Okay, then give me the abridged version, then. You mentioned the Crucible. Something new goin' on with Salem?" Ozpin paused when they reached the interior of the ship, the rear hatch contracting upwards to a close.

"Not quite, but I'm sure that this situation will inevitably result in her involvement. Put simply, an entire Kingdom materialized in the southern reaches of her domain overnight. Initial reports indicate that they're heavily militarized. Therefore, I felt it prudent to include some additional layers of protection, should negotiations go awry. That's where you come in." Qrow blinked. He glanced down at the beverage container in his hand, eyes narrowed.

"I'm sorry, but what did you two sneak into my drink? I don't much appreciate folks tampering with my supply, you know." Ozpin chuckled.

"I can assure you that you're quite sane. Well, presumably." Qrow grunted while Glynda raised a hand to her lips.

"Enough games, Ozpin. For once, I'm inclined to be a little serious. 'Sounds to me like you know more than you're letting on, as usual." Ozpin shrugged.

"You'd be correct in that assumption on most any other occasion. Today, however, I can assure you that I mean it when I say that I have no idea what's going on. An entire foreign _Kingdom_ appeared in Remnant overnight. This is uncharted waters for all parties involved." Qrow groaned as he took another sip from his flask.

"Seems just a bit odd for just the three of us to be dealing with this alone, then. Where's the General? I'm sure he'd like a stake in this." Ozpin quickly nodded.

"Trust me, he would. However, this situation will require more than a morsel of tact on our part, something that Ironwood sorely lacks, I'm afraid." Qrow chuckled.

"And you think _I've _got the tact for this?" Both Ozpin and Glynda shook their heads.

"Not at all. I need you to be on standby while we introduce ourselves to the neighbors. There's no telling what could go wrong, and I'd appreciate a quick getaway, if necessary." Qrow rolled his eyes.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. 'Don't suppose I get a say in these matters, by any chance?" Ozpin smiled.

"Seeing as we're already en route, no, not really."


	3. Instigation

The girl choked on a black cloud of steaming gunpowder, her eyesight blurred by hot tears. She grimaced. This was a normal reaction to smoke inhalation, but such bodily functions could not be more of an inconvenience then when surrounded by dozens of bird-like monstrosities the size of tanks. With her free hand, she wiped the liquid away, gazing into the murky haze. Silhouettes of her Mages whizzed about like flies, each one releasing a torrent of cerulean bolts into the much larger and more imposing shadows of their pursuers. Tanya's blood boiled as the seconds ticked past. Every moment wasted turning the creatures into dark mist was another spent in the agonizing cold for which she and her men were embarrassingly under prepared. It was only a matter of time until her men either dropped from the sky due to hypothermia or ran out of bullets to lay into the avian meat sponges.

"Colonel!" The familiar voice was almost drowned out by the sound of screeching beasts and discharging weapons. Tanya squinted as she turned to face the figure approaching through thick dust.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" Summoning from her magical reserves, Tanya applied a pressurized burst of air from her flying apparatus, thinning the surrounding dust cloud. Visha, her vision no longer obscured, approached her commander.

"First Company is running low on ammunition. I'm sure the others are running into similar problems. Should we regroup to resupply?" Tanya's eyes became slits. It was readily apparent that Visha was asking to withdraw in the most tactful way possible. The Colonel fiddled with her spare magazines for a moment, grunting as she found them woefully light. Unfortunately, it seemed that the most rational thing to do now was what her subordinate suggested. Despite having found nothing more than dark rocks and angry wildlife, the smart thing to do would be to cut their losses and retreat. Tanya felt her blood pressure rise as she addressed her Lieutenant,

"Order the other Companies to assemble at my location. We fall back as soon as the Expeditionary Team returns." Tanya growled the last few words as her hands clenched around her rifle. Visha nodded as she departed at speed, leaving the small blonde to fume alone. She grit her teeth. These beasts simply _had_ to come from some central source. Every monster they'd encountered so far had engaged from due north. She flicked open her silver pocket watch, harrumphing at how much time had been wasted. Hours spent on a wild goose chase that could've been used defending the Fatherland properly. If it wasn't for this mysterious land's never ending supply of otherworldly beasts, the Commander was sure her team could've covered at least double the ground.

Tanya readied her submachine gun towards the all-too familiar battle cry of another approaching creature. She sighed as she flicked a switch with her trigger finger. It would be less effective overall, but semi-auto fire would help to conserve valuable ammunition. A flash of blue, followed by deep wails. The winged monster faded into nothingness, leaving Tanya to brush the soot from her jacket. With a sigh, the blonde readied her radio. It was time to fall back.

"Commander!" Another distant shout from behind. Eyebrow furled, Tanya turned towards the source. Her frown deepened. The Expeditonary Team. She had no energy left for optimistic expectations.

"Welcome back. More rocks?" Tanya refiled her magazine, eyes turned away from the three sweaty soldiers. Gulping, Lieutenant Neumann approached.

"N-negative, ma'am." Tanya's eyes widened. She turned to face her Lieutenant, placing the magazine in an empty coat pocket.

"Continue." Saluting, the shivering man relayed his information as swiftly as cold lips would allow.

"Ma'am! We've located a large complex approximately 15 miles due north. It resembles a fortress of medieval architecture." Tanya's fingers fiddled with the cusp of her uniform. She felt her blood warming.

"Were you able to ascertain the strength of their defenses?" As the manic screeches of attacking birds waned, the remaining Mages of the 203rd began to move towards their Commander. They reloaded their weapons and called upon remaining magical reserves. The Colonel was wearing a very recognizable expression, and it would be foolish not to prepare for what came next.

"We found an abundance of these monsters, but nothing that we haven't yet encountered." Tanya nodded. Was this feeling relief? Was it hope? The Colonel wasn't sure, but she forced it down with a swift gulp. For the success of the mission to fall prey to fallible emotions would be unacceptable. She'd have to win this the same way she always had: with a level head on her shoulders and a steady rifle in her arms.

"Any text on the art of modern warfare you could find would say the same thing: we ought to fall back. We're down to our last few rounds, spent of magical energy, and slowly freezing to death. We should regroup back at HQ, resupply and await further orders. We're not an autonomous army of our own, after all. We're an arm of the Empire, here to serve its interests, not ours." She smiled. The Battalion readied their weapons.

"However, I do believe that whatever shithole we've found ourselves in doesn't play by any rules. Our enemy is ruthless, animalistic. From what we've seen, it desires nothing more than to satisfy its most basic instinct; to consume until there is nothing left." Tanya placed a hand to her blue lips as she chuckled. "So not too different from what we've already spent years fighting. Only difference is, these beasts have no sense of fear, nothing to steer them away from their desire. If we play by the rules, we will be but terrified lambs awaiting the maw of an unrelenting hunter."

Lieutenant Visha steeled her expression against a rapidly beating heart. She'd fought beside her Commander for so long. It wouldn't do to show fear now.

"I know that none of you signed up to battle literal demons. Neither did I. Trust me." Tanya shrugged, now encircled by her troops, of which remained silent. They were appreciative of the cold breeze that hid the sound of swift breaths.

"However, should we back down now, I am positive that everything we've given our lives to defending will be eradicated. Your homes, your families, our glorious Empire, will be but a distant memory in a far off land. I will not stand for it! I refuse this fate! If you are so inclined to stand beside your Commander once more, then follow me forward, and trample our enemies into dust." Tanya growled, unable to wipe the snarl from her lips. She would defy him, the one who called himself God, the one who found singular pleasure in her agony. He waited now, in rifle's range, for her to enact a Leviathan's judgement.

Her men straightened, right hands pressed against wet brows, unified. "Yes, ma'am!" The battle's chorus rang out across the dead plain, and the Devil smiled.

* * *

The dark glass shattered in her hand, an infinity of shards like stars falling to the cold ground. She burned. Every fiber of her immortal coil raged against the oncoming storm. This wasn't supposed to happen. This _shouldn't _be possible. The handful of otherworldly invaders now advanced into her home, the land she'd spent millennia tending. With alien magics and outdated weaponry, they slaughtered her pets like fish in barrels. Was this divine justice? Had the Brothers summoned the arbiters of their wrath? Nonsense, Salem thought. They'd refused to interfere since Creation. Why now, and why so strangely?

"I apologize for this upfront approach, Mistress, but time is of the essence. Should we call off the attack on Beacon?" Ah, so the insect grew itself a mouth? She boiled as she turned to face him, the sleazing coward who went by Watts. She approached, inching forwards as to not squish the thing underneath her rage.

"You dare to defy me? In this hour of chaos, have you finally found a spine, worm?" Watts backed away, straightening his tie. He cleared his throat, placing a hand on the center table.

"Of course not. I am merely suggesting that our defenses, as they are, may not be sufficient to protect the Fortress. We may need the brat and her entourage's assistance if we are to repel these maddened warmongers." Salem snorted, eyes narrowed. She turned away from the thing calling itself a man, and strolled back to the shattered window.

"Cinder will continue her operation as planned. In fact, not a word of this will be spoken to her or her companions. I will not be swayed by this unruly show of force." She gripped the windowcill, nails digging into sharp stone.

"But ma'am, we cannot know the strength of these magic bearers for certain. It's clear they have little trouble dispatching your Grimm. What will become of your plans if they deal equally with your home?" She felt her rage spill over into a near amusement. It was as if he desired for her to stamp him out of existence. Nevertheless, the held her composure.

"In one way, you are correct, Arthur. The usual measures have proven... inadequate." Salem smiled. Watts backed away.

"This will require a personal touch." Salem abandoned her windowsill, gilding past the flabbergasted man. From across the room, a child-like chuckle.

"Hm. 'Best not to get in her way, Watts. Doesn't usually go so well." Tyrian's scorpion tail curled around his smiling figure. Watts swallowed. With a step, Salem halted at the door.

"Tyrian. You will go to this new land. Gather as much information as possible, and report back to me." Tyrian's expression exploded as he clapped his hands.

"Oh, so much fun, so much fun!"

"And ma'am, what will you be doing?" Arthur straightened as much as possible. Salem chuckled.

"As I said, I will be applying a personal touch."


	4. Incursion

"I still don't see how this is all going according to plan."

A blue sky dotted by sparse clouds hung above the handcuffed duo trudging along a stone path. Two armed soldiers flanked their sides while another four stalked close behind, rifles drawn. Ahead lay the massive centerpiece of this nation's capitol, a Headquarters building, crimson flags dazzling in the early afternoon sun. The gray haired man leaned closer to his compatriot.

"Nonsense, Glynda. I do believe that being escorted at gunpoint was within the established mission parameters." Miss Goodwitch's scowl deepened. She flinched as the guard to her right pressed his rifle's wooden stock into her shoulder.

"Silence!" The command was simple, and the duo obliged, following the order as they were pushed up a steep flight of stairs. Their vision was obscured by the gigantic structure, and they were wrapped in shadow as they marched through the aperture and into an alien world. A maze of decorated hallways greeted them, but the sound of heavy steps from behind ceased, and the pair halted in the golden foyer. Quiet followed, and the Headmaster and his assistant stood like statues, eyes soaking in the scenery like sponges.

A few moments later, the sound of footsteps from ahead pulled them out from their haze. The soldiers at their side slung their rifles as they rendered a swift salute. Out stepped an elderly man wearing an equally old but well kept uniform. Try as he might, Ozpin couldn't quite look directly into his eyes. Perhaps the old soldier had trouble with his vision, as he was squinting so harshly. Regardless, Ozpin straitened on his cane. The man possessed no active aura, but the old Headmaster could feel his determination oozing from every pore.

"At ease, soldiers. Thank you for your timely response. Strategic Command will take care of this matter from here." Ozpin raised an eyebrow. He wondered if he'd encountered a single civilian structure on his way to this pavilion of war. Following an additional courtesy, the armed squad turned about and exited the stronghold post haste, the heavy door slamming behind them. For a moment, the pair thought it odd to be left alone with what seemed to be a high ranking officer in a foreign nations military, only to find the silver shimmer of rifle barrels pointed in their direction from behind cracked doors.

"I apologize for the crass behavior, but I'm sure you understand the value of a healthy dose of skepticism in situations like these. Firearms are a necessary precaution, but not one that I expect to be utilized. If you'd be so kind as to follow me, we can have a little chat over some coffee. The folks here know how to brew an excellent cup." The old man gestured to the pair as he turned away, stepping down the hallway with more speed than his appearance suggested. Ozpin smiled.

"It just so happens that I'm quite partial to some, when well made." Ozpin followed from a distance, flanked by a very cautious Glynda, who's eyes hadn't come off the hidden gunmen since they'd entered the room.

"I am General Zettour. I'm in charge of overseeing our nation's strategic defensive operations, which have become infinitely more complicated over the past twenty-four hours. While your transmission was certainly unexpected, it is not wholly unwelcome. I'm looking for answers, and I'm willing to take the word of two strangers over nothing at all." The General opened a large oak door, revealing another spacious room adorned by imposing flags and expensive-looking decor. In the center of the room was a long table clearly able to comfortable seat dozens, but at the moment was only being used by one. The man in question sat with arms crossed, his massive frame competing with the girth of his mustache.

"Please, take a seat. There are no guards inside this room, but rest assured that General Rudersdorf and I are capable of seeing to our own defense." The seated burly man harrumphed. Inhaling deeply, Ozpin found his way to the seat adjacent to the General, setting his cane to his side. The two pairs eyed each other for a long moment, the only sound being the soft crackle of the large General's cigar. Glynda's hand rested firmly on her right side, while Ozpin folded his hands together, eyes narrowed.

"I hope you two don't mind, but I'll be taking down a few notes while we talk." Zettour produced a small pad and pen from his jacket, resting them on the table. He flipped through the first few pages, pressing a finger down on the book's center.

"So, according to the transmission we received from your... airship, you became aware of the Empire's presence within your lands and now wish to trade information. Does that sound correct?" Ozpin nodded.

"Yes, General. Your nation's appearance here was as sudden for us as it was for you. We'd be more than happy to fill you in on the nature of the world you've found yourself in, and some theories about how it was you came to be here. All we ask in return is some idea of your country's background, and the events leading up to this unforeseen circumstance." Zettour sighed, and Rudersdorf removed the cigar from his mouth.

"'The world you've found yourself in', you say?" Rudersdorf clenched his fist, and Glynda tightened her grip on her waist. "This is utterly ridiculous. You understand that, right? Magic notwithstanding, the idea that our entire nation was... displaced, into another world, is mere fantasy. I'd be more inclined that this is some elaborate hoax perpetrated by our enemies to knock us off balance." Ozpin shook his head.

"Unfortunately, General, what was fantasy yesterday has become reality today. The faster we accept that fact, the faster we can resolve the issues to come." General Rudendorf grunted, muttering something vulgar to himself. Zettour gestured for the Headmaster to continue.

"We call this world Remnant. It's inhabited by many peoples and creatures utterly alien to you. I do believe that you've already encountered one of them." Zettour nodded.

"We've received reports from trusted sources regarding monsters reeking havoc across our northern border. As we speak, civilians are evacuating their homes in droves as the beasts push further south. There's only so far they can go." Ozpin shook his head solemnly.

"What you're referring to are called creatures of Grimm. They're drawn by negative emotions, fear and hate, especially. The panic of your people is only speeding their surge into your country." Zettour chuckled quietly.

"That sounds ridiculous, but I'm inclined to believe pretty much anything, at this venture. I'll get to the point." He flipped through a few more pages, stopping at a transmission log from half a day's prior. "I dispatched a mobile task force to investigate the threat approximately 9 hours ago. Knowing the commander, their investigation will be... thorough. It is likely that she will attempt to locate and destroy the source of these 'Grimm' and put a swift end to this invasion."

Ozpin's blood ran cold.

"Given what you know about this threat, does a Battalion of elite magic-users stand a chance?"

The Headmaster jumped to his feet.

"Recall your troops. Now."

* * *

Assembled in standard diamond formation, the 203rd Mage Battalion pierced through the biting chill like the tip of a spear. On the horizon, their commander saw her prize. Despite the cold eating away at her bones and the exhaustion weighing upon her eyelids like lead, she smiled.

"Command, this is Pixie-One. I have eyes upon what appears to be the enemy stronghold. Do you copy?" The blonde was greeted by the same response as before, stark static. She grunted. A part of her was pleased that a communications error provided a valid reason to act on her own authority, while another was painfully aware that, should her mission fail, she would bear the full responsibility. At least she could say that she _tried_ to contact her superiors before going to war with an alien race. Although, given the circumstances, she was almost certain that the good General would've given her the go-ahead anyway.

She switched to short range communications, addressing her battalion, "Listen up, men. Communications with Command aren't going through. We're on our own out here. We'll engage the enemy from a distance to ascertain the strength of their defenses. Don't do anything stupid, understood?" A chorus of 'yes, ma'am!' rang out in her ear. Satisfied, the Colonel readied her rifle and closed in, Company 1 moving into offensive formations while the remaining Companies formed a up behind.

Through the orange haze, the fortress described by her Expeditionary Team truly did seem positively medieval to Tanya. It appeared to be built out of an unknown, dark building material, with towering parapets and ornate designs. She struggled to find a practical purpose to such a design in the modern theater of war. Perhaps there was none, or perhaps the designers had no concept of modern warfare. Either way, Tanya thought, long-range spells should do the trick quite nicely.

"Ready artillery spells, on my command." Tanya sighed. From what she could see, the fortress seemed devoid of human life, simply surrounded by more of the same beasts she'd spent all day killing. Perhaps is was simply abandoned, overrun long ago, and perhaps destroying it would accomplish nothing. As the old saying went, however, 'nothing ventured, nothing gained'.

"Ma'am, incoming hostiles, rapidly closing from due north!" To her right, Lieutenant Visha gazed through binoculars, eyes trained on a group of shadowy figures approaching from the fortress. Tanya produced her own pair, quickly verifying her Lieutenant's findings. While it was difficult to make out details from a distance, the bipedal creatures appeared to be wearing all-black fatigues, and were those... wings? She stowed her equipment and readied her rifle while shouting into her radio,

"Cancel that order, we've got incoming! Prepare to engage Company-sized force of unknown hostiles. Assume defensive formation." Her men complied in a blink, switching magic spells to counter mage-like enemies. As one unit, they charged their rifles, ready to unleash a barrage of bolts on their leader's command. Heart thumping in her ears, Tanya held her finger on the trigger. The monsters grew closer, and her finger itched, screaming to pull back the leaver and annihilate the approaching threat. From a closer distance, it was readily apparent that these creatures were entirely unlike anything her Battalion had yet to come across. They looked like large humans encompassed in heavy black armor accented by glowing bands of crimson. Their arms, however, seemed too long, and their legs inhumanly bulky, with white patches adorning jointed sections. In one armored hand was a thick metal slab resembling a broad sword, likely for close combat, Tanya deduced. In the other was an ivory plate strapped to the forearm, most likely intended for defense.

Ammunition was running too low for gratuitous volleys. Every shot would have to count. So, against rapidly approaching visors of glowing crimson, Tanya held her fire. Her men, finding heat to sweat in the chill, followed her lead. 300 feet and closing. 250. She could hear them, a visceral chorus of inhuman hate. 200 feet. They brandished their swords as one, linked as if by a hive mind. 150. Mere seconds remained. 100. No time left.

"Fire!"

The cold air exploded with the electric symphony of her unit's combined volley. Cerulean bolts of concentrated magics screamed toward their intended target, and as one, collided. Orange and red swirled together in an inferno of power. Tanya and her men braced against the ensuing shock-wave, their ears popping under the change in air mass. Coughing, the Devil Pixie applied some force to reorient herself, finding her vision clouded once more by gray smoke.

_That should do it_, she thought, squinting through the haze. Not even heavy tanks could survive armor-piercing magic shells.

A shadow stood before her, however, and a sword leveled above her head. She gasped, summoning a burst from her reserves to her flying apparatus. The monster's broad sword cut through the air where the small girl once floated a mere moment before. The air from her equipment clearing away the obscuring phenomena, she took in the full sight of her opponent. It was double the height of an average male, which made it many times more imposing for someone of her stature. That sword alone would have rend her body in two clean pieces, she thought as she created more distance.

No hesitation. She pulled back on the trigger once more, feeling the recoil of her weapon as she unleashed a flurry of rounds towards the humanoid warrior. Her eyes widened as the creature utilized its wings for an evasive maneuver, avoiding the majority of her spells with apparent ease. A few of her bolts managed to make contact with the white slab attached to its arms, but they did little more than create puffs of smoke and small holes.

Tanya's brain worked in overtime, juggling both engaging the enemy and trying to understand how it managed to resist armor piercing abilities. Nothing she'd yet encountered had shown any such resistance to her attacks. This threat was on an entirely different level.

As if reading an opening in her defense, the monster charged forwards at speeds its wings shouldn't have logically granted. With little other recourse readily available, Tanya released another salvo, and the enemy brought its shield to its front. As she expected, her rounds had minimal effect, barely staggering the beast.

_That shield is far more capable of absorbing rounds than a Mage's! I'll have to get around it to do any damage._ With a snarl on her lips, Tanya flipped headfirst, reversing her forward momentum with a steady application of thrust. Then, like a rocket, she shot directly forwards, aiming for the air just above the enemy. She anticipated its counter attack, maneuvering around its broad sword with another burst of air and gliding past the beast like a leaf carried on the wind.

She trained her eye down her sights and held her breath. The monster's exposed backside filled her view. No time. Do or die. She exhaled. A stream of hot magic exploded from her barrel and slammed into the beast. Black powder coated her weapon as the creature cried out one last time. A second later, all that remained was a dark cloud, through which the Devil of the Rhine blasted through. A small victory, she thought, but given the difficulty the enemy had given her, there was little telling how well her men were faring.

The sky was filled with the chaos she'd predicted. Her men were falling back, ensuring a minimal safe distance between them and the enemy's melee weapons while spraying rounds haphazardly into waiting shields. There wasn't much time until they'd be outrun and cut to pieces.

"Listen! You need to outmaneuver their shields in order to kill them. You'll only have a small window." Tanya barked into her microphone as she sped towards the nearest creature, which now pursued Captain Weiss and his Company. She heard only rapid breaths in response. Her Battalion was exhausted, perhaps too spent to perform new, fancy maneuvers.

_I'll have to eliminate as many as I can before the Battalion starts taking losses._ Her men would need time to adjust, but the more time they spent fighting, the less efficient they became. She drew down upon the adversary and placed her finger on the trigger.

A scream from behind. Decidedly human, and far too familiar. She took her aim off the enemy on impulse and turned to face it. She wished she hadn't.

A black blade tore through a haze of crimson liquid. Visha's blue eyes radiated shock and agony. Her weapon slid from her hands. Where her knees should have met thighs, a sword now sliced, rending flesh and bone asunder. She didn't stop screaming. Her screams wouldn't stop. They flowed freely with her tears, life's desperate last plead for help.

_His fault. His fault._

_My fault._

In a haze of death, the Devil's eyes burned gold.


	5. Intervention

The dark sky overhead boiled with fury. The cold air crackled with the arcane. Alien invaders buzzed high above, locked in a dance to the death. Arthur Watts felt out of place in such chaos. The front lines were no place for a coward, the shivering man knew. He could provide no assistance here, and yet, he could not turn his eyes away. There was a strange beauty in this madness. That inward allure is what brought him beside the immortal standing beside him. Salem. The mother of all Grimm, she could be seen to some as the devil, and to Watts, she certainty was. Power did well to keep a sniveling rat coaxed to the line of fire.

"What is divine intervention when faced with the reality that I have created?" Her words snapped him out of a trance. Stammering, Watts turned to face his Queen.

"Pardon me, ma'am?" A neutral response was all he could muster. Salem sighed. With an elegance befitting of her self-granted title, she gestured to the battle above.

"This godless world has seen its first miracle in millennia, one crafted to oppose me. As I have defied Their will since the beginning, I stand in defiance now. The Praetors I have summoned shall make short work of these interlopers, and I will stand above the carnage stronger than ever." Salem grinned. Another shiver shot down Arthur's spine. He adjusted his tie as he looked back to the sky. These Grimm were unique, he could tell. The Queen had seemed to spend a significant portion of her time in their creation. While the man acknowledged her immortality, he knew that she was not omnipotent. For now, it was up to the 'Praetors' to eliminate the threat above.

Watts also understood one of Salem's very few weaknesses. It often took a prideful man to recognize pride in another, and in that regard, he was utterly outmatched.

"Our enemy has almost certainly placed great faith in these magic-imbibed mongrels. I only hope that we can use their delusions to our advantage, while abstaining from them ourselves." Watts' heart slammed against his ribs. Sometimes, he wondered why he ever felt the need to speak up. Salem's eyes narrowed.

"I will always be the first to challenge blind devotion to the irrational. It is our enemies who find misguided strength in a hope that does not exist." Watts' fingers trembled. Ah. Now he remembered.

* * *

Rage is much like a pit of boiling tar. Each opaque bubble pops and hisses with scalding steam, alone rather mundane, but together powerful enough to fell great beasts. Rage pulls at the rational faculties much like how the dark ooze of the primordial drags ancient creatures down into a murky pit to suffer a death as slow as it is cruel. How does one escape such an enticing maw? Perhaps all creatures are born fated to one day join the rest in that pit and be consumed until nothing but a dry skeleton remains.

As the Devil gazed through cold iron, her blood boiled. Steaming, pulling, entrancing, that old specter of anger danced in her chest, pressing her mind to the guillotine. That beast of the crimson night before her was the fuel, the sight of a blue-eyed Lieutenant hewn in two, the spark. She felt a finger begin to pull back on the trigger, and some smaller part of herself thought it wrong, or at the very least, irrational. She felt her mouth open, ready to sing words of exaltation to a Being she despised more than any other.

Rage. Rage. Rage. This was Being X's fault. This was her fault. What a noisy cacophony, so distracting, yet so intoxicating. No, something within whispered. This was illogical. This was foolish. This would only get herself killed. There were no second chances this time. The life of one subordinate was a necessary sacrifice. She wasn't anything of real importance to her, anyway.

No one was.

She bit her tongue and felt coppery hotness fill her mouth. The cursed prototype was unnecessary. The beast was otherwise occupied. She would be able to dispatch it easily enough. She gnashed her teeth and golden eyes faded to blue. The bitterness within felt worse.

Then, it seemed as though the world shifted. Approaching at breakneck pace, Tanya struggled to watch as her subordinate's body flickered for a short moment before fading into shadow. A moment later nothing remained of her Lieutenant. Before the Devil had time to reconsider her plan, a flash of light erupted from behind the enemy behemoth.

A single gunshot tore through chaos. The armor piercing round slammed into the beast's back, splintering armor and rending crimson filaments asunder. In a blink, the round bored through thick plating, leaving a watermelon sized crater in its chest. Unable to protest, the dark warrior clutched the gaping hole. Unable to speak, Tanya came to an abrupt halt, eyes saucers. To her left, her Lieutenant, breathing heavily and clearly exhausted beyond normal limits, but very much alive. To her right, the thing that once was her killer evaporated into black smoke and white shards, a memory of what once was.

The seconds dragged on until Visha found the faculty to notice her commander floating nearby. She summoned all the energy she had left to produce a smile that just barely crept onto her cheeks. "I'm uninjured, ma'am. It looks like these hostiles are easily tricked by holographic spells. We should relay this info to the others as soon as possible." The Devil scratched at her chin with a free hand. Of course. She'd vigorously instructed her Battalion on the usage of holographic deception when appropriate. Her Mages were the elite. Of course they would employ such strategies against such inherently mindless opponents. It made perfect logical sense. All that remained was the critical next step. This small advantage they held over her enemy would have to be effectively utilized in order to secure victory.

"Indeed. Relay the message to the Company leaders. I'll clean up this mess." Visha nodded as Tanya exploded away, leaving a trail of black dust floating in her wake. A familiar numbness gnawed at her chest. She frowned as she readied her rifle. That emptiness always filled her with the same feeling of regret. She felt more than foolish for allowing the animal within any reign over her faculties. She felt shame, and as the Devil closed the distance between herself and another hostile currently engaging Lieutenant Nuemann's Company, she had to dispel that cursed Being's name by force.

As an eye peered down the sights of her rifle, the radio strapped to her front squawked to life.

"Commander, Third Company is taking casualties. Please advise: are our orders to continue engagement with the enemy, or are we to break contact?" She grimaced at Captain Weiss's question. His voice was as exasperated as it was desperate. Given enough time, Tanya was confident that she could dispatch the hostiles; however, time was not a luxary her men could afford to indulge in. She observed the hectic stew that was the aerial battlefield. The Battalion struggled to keep some semblance of order in the chaos the monsters wrought, once organized Companies long since broken up into a haphazard firefight. She could hardly blame them. In fact, the Devil was rather surprised to see as few casualties as there had been. A testament to their training, but not even a lifetime of preparation could sustain them against a threat so ruthless and alien. It was only a matter of time until their magic and bullets both ran dry.

And yet, their stood the fortress, a mere few hundreds of meters away from her rifle's range. It was obvious now: that castle _was_ of some kind of importance to whatever enemy she faced. No leader would exhaust their best troops defending a structure of no real value. Its destruction would result in some type of blow to these monsters, perhaps even up to their total eradication. If she retreated now, whoever controlled these beasts would never allow her to reengage so easily. There may have never been another opportunity like this again.

But what of her men? They were devoted, perhaps more so than a human should be, to their Commander and whatever orders she gave. They would die here, in this cold barren wasteland, if she asked. They could sacrifice themselves for her, for the Fatherland, even, disgustingly, for whatever deity they worshipped, because her men had total faith that their deaths would help save the ones they loved. In this hour of total chaos, that belief held true more than ever. So, Tanya reasoned, she _could_ stay, accomplish her mission, and deal the death blow Being X so greatly deserved.

It would cost her Battalion. A necessary sacrifice? Perhaps, depending on how one looked at it. Logically, the trade off was more than worth it. The lives of one Battalion weighed little against those of the entire Empire. Should they die here, they would be immortalized as the saviors of the nation. It made sense. A rational person would confirm that as the correct decision.

Why did her emotions have to protest? The world was cruel, unfeeling and under the influence of a Being devoted to her suffering. She'd resolved long ago in His destruction. Nothing would stand in her way. This was part of His plan, too, she realized. He'd placed the Devil in checkmate, unable to make a decision that didn't cost her something.

If there was one thing she excelled at, however, it was defying His fate.

"Pixie-One to all Companies. You are to fall back and delay the enemy until I give further orders. Do not attempt to destroy them. Use illusionary and suppressive tactics to conserve munitions and minimize casualties." Her men complied in an instant. Reforming ranks, some retrieved cylindrical objects from they hips and pulled their pins. They shielded their eyes as the flashbang grenades exploded, blinding the hostiles and giving them time to make space. Others continued to spit fire into their opponents, but traded accuracy for volume, forcing the monsters to rely on their heavy shields.

Tanya's grimace slowly curled into a wicked grin. Every second mattered in this game of cat-and-mouse, and her men were playing the role of the rodent admirably. She had to syphon from her reserves in order to keep pace with their retreat, all the while applying bursts of momentum to avoid the bipedal monstrosities' attacks. They wouldn't ease up. Neither would she.

A few seconds later, she found herself floating beside a collection of exhausted men, some coughing up dry, cold air, others straining their bodies to remain upright. This was their breaking point. Any further, and they'd start dropping from the sky like anvils. She appreciated her Lieutenants' ability to reorganize their respective Companies in a relatively swift order. It saved both their lives and the lives of the rest of her men. Celebration would need to be brief, however. The enemy was closing the gap. It would only take a few seconds for them to take back the space her men had paid for in blood.

"All Companies present and accounted for, ma'am!" To her right, Visha put on the best salute she could manage. Tanya smiled, and her men recoiled on instinct.

"Excellent work, Lieutenant. You've given your all, as have the rest of the 203rd. To say I was impressed would be an understatement." Visha's jaw dropped. Tanya sighed and thought of something about dogs and bones before continuing on.

"Let's not let that get to your head, however. I am the leader of this Battalion and will carry myself appropriately." Visha blinked as her Commander turned about. A group of a dozen of the beasts brandished their shields as they approached, now within 50 meters. The Devil readied her weapon.

"God above all, this unholy land knows not the majesty of your perfect name. Bestow upon me the strength to teach them, so that the whole world never forgets." Her targeting apparatus flashed to life, a semi-transparent scaffolding of glowing runes. In her mind's eye, the prototype marked each enemy individually. Her power poured from her cold hands and into her semi-machine gun, the weapon alighting with an aurora of greens and blue flame. Finally, that raw power coalesced into the rifle's chamber. Tanya took one last breath, and blue eyes shone gold once more.

"Let this cold steel burn hot with your rage!"

A flash of golden light erupted from her rifle's muzzle, and the Battalion covered their eyes. One magic-infused round was simultaneously followed by another, until her entire magazine was emptied, as if her sub-machine gun had been loaded with buckshot. Each burning bullet tracked towards its own target at lightning pace. The beasts had no time to prepare. A moment later, and the spell collided. White shields splintered instantly, making way for the rounds behind to slam into unprotected black plating. Each monster was set ablaze in an orange inferno of magic-incendiaries, writhing and howling in a chorus of maddened pain.

"Weapons free!" Captain Weiss called out before the entire Battalion spent much of the remainder of their munitions. Cerulean bolts slammed into weakened foes, and the monsters, unable to defend themselves, clawed at gaping holes before surrendering to the hailstorm. With one last battle cry, one monster broke ranks, charging with no weapon or shield in hand. As the beast appeared within meters of her Commander, Visha drew down her sights and pulled the trigger. Along with the rest of its kind, the creature finally began to crumble.

Tanya breathed deeply. Despite the enemy disintegrating before her, she couldn't find even the slightest hint of elation in her heart. Her eyes were too heavy. But even as the last of the monsters was ground to dust, she reloaded her weapon with her last magazine. In the distance, the fortress still stood. This battle wasn't over until it was but a distant memory.

_What an end, Being X. Your hubris could not match your strength. Now die._

Tanya placed a finger on the trigger once more.

"Commander, I'm reading a massive magical signature originating from that structure!" The voice sounded distant, even though Tanya was quite certain Captain Weiss had been standing right next to her. Was she _that_ exhausted?

But then, she could feel it, and for the first time since her engagement with that foreign dog, she felt true strength. From the fortress, a sphere of black and red energy grew to ridiculous proportions. If that much concentrated magical energy collided with her Battalion, they would all be annihilated. This is what she'd feared most, yet another trump card to trump the previous. Of course that bastard would have something else in store.

"All men, fall back!" Tanya called out. The magic energy only continued to spike. What kind of monstrosity could wield such raw power? It could only be Being X. Tanya bit her tongue, realizing with a chill that He'd put in her checkmate yet again. With the prototype cooling down, Tanya had little real way of defending against such a massive attack. Retreat rapidly became the only option.

With a crack that split the heavens, the ball of swirling magical power erupted from the structure, speeding towards the Battalion at breakneck pace. There wasn't enough time. The attack would hit, and both she and her men would die if nothing was done. In a haze, the Devil turned about, summoning a blue crystalline lattice of magic in order to defend herself. As the sphere encompassed her vision, she realized it wouldn't be enough. She'd made a critical error, and it would cost her life. She'd failed.

Another being appeared in between herself and the red and black sphere. Her eyes shone blue, and she smiled.


	6. Incarnation

The wind whipping Tanya's chilled face slowed. The shouts and screams from behind grew quiet. The electric hum of her magic barrier ceased. Tanya opened her eyes. Before her, a still image of Visha hung like a painting in a museum. Her arms were fixed in an outstretched position, the blue lattice of magic she surely intended to use as defense frozen. Casting a crimson glow behind her back, a raging inferno of wild magic the size of a small house. Despite its prior momentum, it shone in the smoke-filled sky like a second sun, just a moment away from disintegrating both Tanya and her entire Battalion. Tanya blinked once, and when her subordinate's expression wouldn't change, growled.

"Being X. Do I even have to ask?" A small but deep chuckle emanated from nowhere. The Devil ground her teeth together. Then, as if possessed by a demon, Visha's face curled and morphed, her soft smile replaced by a familiar megalomania. The thing possessing her Lieutenant hummed.

"You sound distraught. Perhaps I should communicate using a different form?" Tanya's brow twitched once. Being X's peculiar way of speaking had caused her to make rash decisions more than once in the past. The situation being as it was, now made the worst time for mistakes. She inhaled a shallow breath.

"Have you come here to gloat, Being X? Yes, as you can see, I've lost. I've been defeated. Isn't that what you wanted?" She spat the last few words, eyes pointed away from Visha's body. It didn't do any good to look at her maddened contortions any longer. Being X sighed, placing Visha's hand against her chin.

"Not quite. I have to say, I'm rather disappointed. I expected more from someone of your reputation." Tanya scowled.

"I could question why you saw fit to bring me to this alien world. I could even inquire as to why you thought my first exile wasn't enough. However, you and I both know that would be a waste of time. If you're here to revel, just get it over with and end this." Being X chuckled once more, low and alien, as always.

"Giving up so soon? Haven't you always been the first to challenge a hopeless reality? If I recall, a certain salaryman once promised that he'd see _me _grovel, see _me _beg for mercy. Where's that spark of defiance now?" Tanya scoffed.

"I'm also the first to recognize when there is truly no way out, when logic permits no further action besides defeat." Being X rolled Visha's eyes.

"Come now, we both know that's not true. If that were the case, I would have left you to live out your short and futile days battling against that whole world." Tanya's eyes widened, in part with fury and in part with curiosity. So Being X did have some ulterior motive? If so, she might just have the slimmest chance of manipulating him into going along with a compromise that benefited her unequally. She grinned.

"Enough games. You would have let me die by now if you'd simply wanted the last word. What is it you want from me instead?" Being X clapped Visha's hands together and smiled, the twisted emote wiping the grin from Tanya's face. Her men were not His playthings.

"Getting straight to the point, as usual. Very well. As it stands, your assessment of the situation is correct. You and all of your men will die instantly, should events proceed unaltered. There will be no second Reincarnation, as promised." Tanya held bated breath. Of course, she'd have to go along with whatever second option the bastard provided. Death was never a meaningful alternative to the contrary.

"However, should you agree to some simple terms, you will find that initial fate no longer the case." Being X widened Visha's smile to a point that should not have been anatomically possible. Tanya curled her fists, fighting and fighting against the urge to strike the monster possessing her subordinate. It would be a futile gesture, only harming Visha in the end.

"Those being?" Tanya spat against grated teeth.

"You will kill the adversary opposing you. She is known as Salem. In return, I will impart a miracle upon your Type-95. The overflow will render the device inoperable, but I believe you will find it unnecessary, nonetheless." Tanya frowned. Kill the one responsible for all these monstrosities, for the weaponized sphere of magic strong enough to vaporize a small town? With the Empire already fighting a battle of attrition it was doomed to lose, the thought of her Battalion reclaiming the momentum seemed impossible. Of course, she reasoned, a second chance was better than none. In fact, she thought, if she simply agreed to his terms now, and instead focused on preserving life and limb, he'd be none the wiser and she would come out victorious in her own way.

"I must warn, however, that escape from her wrath is impossible. In due time, should you do nothing, she will wipe the Empire you've invested so much energy into from this world, yourself along with it." She cursed under her breath and idly wondered if Being X could read thoughts. It would explain much, but now wasn't the time for meaningless speculation.

"I suppose I don't have much of a choice. However, Being X, you may rest assured that I will not allow this to go unpunished. After I kill this Salem, I will kill you." Tanya hissed. Being X stretched Visha's face even further.

"I would expect nothing less. I will leave you with one additional blessing. You will find it rather necessary." Tanya cocked an eyebrow. Visha's body floated through the stillness, coming to rest just before her face. She looked pale and sickly up close, but Tanya remained on guard, aware of just what was currently manipulating her body. She flinched as Visha placed an icy palm against her chest. She spoke in Visha's voice, as chill as the air frozen around them.

"_For it is My will that some may be born again. Through this, My servants become bearers of divine light, such that My glory may rise above all pretenders. Reborn in fire and brimstone, I release your soul, and by a hand not my own, enslave thee."_

Tanya's stomach fluttered as blood circulated with a new warmness. She clutched a hand to her head to brace against the dizziness. _What on Earth did that bastard just do?_

"Farewell, my child. May you use these gifts to bring new glory to my name." Tanya opened her mouth to shout, only to watch as Visha's entire body went slack, freezing midair, as if Being X never possessed it. The wind began to lick at her small frame once more, just barely a trickle. The scene all around her started to move in slow motion, the sounds, smells and sights regaining past momentum. Tanya's eyes flared as she realized that Being X was giving her an opportunity, and not one she was willing to waste. She shot her arms outwards, taking in one last deep breath.

"I thank the Lord, for His mercy is infinite. Let these hands become your shield, so that your enemies never again harm the faithful!" The prototype gem hanging from her neck pulsed with rekindled power, whiring to life. A new crystalline lattice formed in between Visha and the slowly approaching magic sphere, exponentially gaining magical energy from her Type-95. Tanya roared as she felt unfamiliar power surge through her fingers, as if the device was pumping pure electricity through her arms. She smelled a stale singe, like hot copper mixed with burning wood. This was her only opportunity. The prototype danced from her neck as if blown about by a hurricane, the crimson crystal centerpiece alight with an overabundance of power. As her shield grew to the size of a football field, one crack resounded.

Then, whiteness.

She knew she was spinning, but couldn't ascertain the direction. Her ears rang, the shrill sound far louder than even the most powerful firearm. She thought she might place her hands over them, only to wonder where they'd went. She idly tried to move her legs, only to find the feeling in those limbs equally absent. She thought she should feel more afraid, but even the emotion of fear was numbed by the strange whiteness all around. As she spun through a glassy infinity, she thought she felt something grab her shoulders. The spinning didn't cease, however, and she grew exacerbated at the incescent noise and light swirling along with her. The ringing quieted, just enough so that a coherent thought could break through. _Where was the pain._

Perhaps she was numbed by the shock, whatever part of her mind remained active thought. But then, she found it strange that she could feel her skin again, and instead of the searing sensation of immolation, she felt energy like nothing she could describe. It was as if a soothing oil was being poured across her entire body, flying to treat her wounds like a sentient salve. She felt the white light dim and twitched a finger, somewhat surprised that she could still do so. The ringing transformed into a dull throbbing, replaced by the sound of familiar voices, some calling her name, all panicked.

"Commander! Can you hear me? Please, for the love of God, say something. Say anything!" The voice as familiar, but her mind was still too numb to accurately place it. Oh well, better to at least try to ease their concern. A part of her realized their was little time to waste. They needed to escape, to flee.

"What was that, Colonel? Please say again." Ah, it was Captain Weiss, as loyal as ever. Although, Tanya idly thought, she'd never heard him as emotive as he was now. Her men really _were _at their breaking point.

"We're... we're falling back. We're regrouping at HQ." She placed a hand on her throbbing forehead. It felt as though a construction worker was currently hacking away at her skull with a jackhammer. She needed to think clearly and precisely in order to give appropriate orders. Otherwise, the second chance Being X had provided would be for naught. She swallowed, running through countless hours of training regarding maintaining personal discipline when severely wounded. Looking around, she saw her battalion unharmed, which should've been impossible. She'd never thank Being X, but his hubris often came in handy. She frowned when the image of her Lieutenant, contorted and possessed, intruded on her thoughts. She'd need to wait, and that rationalization caused her to bite her tongue.

"We sustained minimal casualties from that attack. I'll think about the how later. Lieutenant Sebreyokov is severely injured and unconscious, but alive." Lieutenant Koenig seemed to read her mind. Tanya shook her head. The time for questions was later, as he said. She climbed to her feet, almost staggering back to the ground, only to be caught by a wide-eyed Sergeant Grantz. She brushed him away, coughing into a free hand to dispel the soot and dust.

"There is no time to waste. All those still able to move will evacuate the wounded. We will be leaving the dead." If her men thought the idea barbaric or impossible, they didn't show it. They all gave tired salutes and dispersed, leaving Tanya to reclaim her fallen weapon from the rocky soil. Upon swift inspection, she found the barrel bent and the buttstock missing. She frowned, but rationalized that the firearm would be useless without ammunition, anyway.

A quick glance to the sky, and Tanya took off, slowly at first, but quickly regaining enough speed to rejoin her unit. She grinned softly at their timeliness, which would be absolutely necessary. There was no telling when their adversary would launch a counterattack.

_Salem. _

The name swirled in her mind. She was likely directly responsible for the attack that nearly annihilated her Battalion. _She cannot be underestimated_, she thought. The most difficult of opponents could come from the most unlikely of sources, and Tanya refused to be fooled twice.

* * *

General Rudersdorf slammed a fist against the table, the old wood creaking in protest. His face was all fire and fury, Ozpin could tell, and for good reason.

"If we're to believe the ridiculous nonsense pouring out of your mouth, then our most elite Battalion of Mages is doomed. Are communications back up?" Ozpin turned an eye to the solemn man walking through the door. Shaking his head, General Zettour replied,

"Not yet, I'm afraid. There appears to be some type of interference blocking our most powerful frequencies. Either that, or they are simply out of range." Rudersdorf clenched his hands.

"Or they've already been wiped out. We have to assume the worst. Professor Ozpin, by your estimates, how long do we have until the Empire is overrun?" The gray haired man in question scratched his chin for a moment.

"That's a difficult question, I'm afraid. If these estimates are true, your Empire holds a population equal or exceeding all other Kingdoms in Remnant combined. That is both a blessing and a curse." General Zettour wandered over to the table, finding the chair nearest to his compatriot.

"Explain." Zettour prompted him to continue with a hand.

"Additional manpower will prove vital in repelling the Grimm in the short term, but that sheer number of humans panicking in mass will result in very determined foes. How are your initial fortifications holding?" Zettour shook his head slowly.

"Not well. We've ordered all active and reserve units to the Northern Reaches. As you say, however, these 'Grimm' are focusing their numbers towards urban centers, which are difficult to defend given the civilian populous. Not only that, but our supply lines were completely unprepared to support an expedition of this magnitude to the north, as opposed to the east. It's only a matter of time before our men run out of bullets or food or both." Ozpin nodded. The situation was dire for this foreign nation. In a best case scenario, Ozpin believed they could hold out for a maximum of six months on their own before either their army shattered or their people fell to anarchy. He decided it was best not to give out that estimate to the two terrified Generals fuming before him, and instead provided an alternative solution.

"I will be frank with you, gentlemen, as time demands it. You did not choose to come to this world and neither did we consent to it. However, on behalf of Beacon Academy, I am willing to extend aid to your Empire, in this desperate hour. While our meeting wasn't exactly official, I can provide elite soldiers on my authority to assist in the initial defense. News of your nation's arrival will be kept secret from the majority of the population however, for now. No need to spark additional chaos." Zettour sighed, gesturing to the map of Remnant sprawled across the large table.

"While I both appreciate and accept the gesture, how will a few of your elite soldiers prevail where ours have failed?" Glynda made a move to speak, and Ozpin waved for her to do so.

"If I may, our Huntsmen are trained to defeat the Grimm, while your entire Empire hasn't even dreamed of something like them." Zettour nodded once more, taking a deep swig of black coffee.

"That's understandable. Still, I'm sure you can empathize with our position. High Command, not to mention the monarchy, won't be thrilled to have the Empire's sovereignty infringed upon by enlisting the aid of alien soldiers." Ozpin shrugged.

"It's a fairly simple choice, one simple enough that even the thickest skulled ruler would be able to understand. It's either accept our aid or perish, in all honesty." Rudersdorf placed a hairy hand to his face. Ozpin was sure he wasn't taking this nearly as well as his companion.

"Additionally," Ozpin began, "we will be working closely with an allied Kingdom of ours known as Atlas. They possess a true standing army, one who's assistance will be invaluable in the long term. While I cannot claim that they will be eager to mobilize in the defense of an alien empire immediately, I can promise that the one in charge will get things approved in a fairly timely manner." Zettour nodded once more before the a knock was sounded against the door into the conference chamber.

"Enter." At Zettour's word, a male officer stepped into the room and rendered a crisp salute.

"Sir, we've made contact with Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff of the 203rd Mage Battalion. She's requested to speak with you at your earliest convenience." Zettour leapt from his seat, the ornate chair falling to the floor.

"That's the best news I've heard all day. If you'll excuse me, Professor." The General sauntered past the saluting officer and through the door, leaving Ozpin, Glynda, and Rudersdorf in silence. Ozpin idly fiddled with his cane.

_This truly is madness. At this juncture, it's far more likely that Ironwood would mobilize his army against the falling Empire rather than protect it. Regardless, with so much latent magic possessed by this nation's people, we have a unique opportunity. One I cannot afford to refuse._


	7. Interrogation

Leather heels slammed into the freezing tarmac. Tanya tore the magic converter from her chest, wincing as the blackened steel box crashed into the rough asphalt. She barked orders at the crowd of paramedics storming to intercept her approaching Battalion, growling as one eager worker attempted to lift her tiny body onto a stretcher. Such an action was entirely unnecessary and would waste valuable time. Pushing past him, she marched directly towards a waiting civilian transport. A familiar dark-haired Colonel waited outside the driver's door, and Tanya rendered the best salute she could manage.

"Colonel Ruergen. Pardon my rudeness, but I don't have time for small talk. There is much I need to discuss with Strategic Command." Ruergen shook his head as he gestured towards the open passenger door.

"That's why I'm here, actually. Strategic HQ requested that I take responsibility for your transport. They've requested a debrief immediately." Tanya scowled.

"Very well. At least our intentions are aligned, for once." She leapt into the passenger's seat, finding the seat belt rather large when affixed against her inconvenient body. Glancing out of the window, she watched as medics administered first aid to those still able to walk and placed those who couldn't on stretchers. She winced when she caught sight of a certain almond-haired Lieutenant being carted away at speed. The looks on the medics who shuttled her weren't reassuring. She swallowed, hoping the action would mitigate the unwanted emotions blistering in her gut. She grimaced when they only intensified. As their vehicle pulled away, Ruergan turned an eye to his side.

"I guarantee that your Battalion will be placed in the best medical care the Empire possesses. Strategic HQ made sure of that, as well." Tanya scoffed, an automatic response, and one she found only brought regret. Of all the individuals she'd made acquaintances with since her reincarnation, none had been able to read her thoughts as precisely as Colonel Ruergan.

"If I may ask, what is it you encountered out there?" His question was concise, and Tanya knew there was little reason to keep the truth from him when he'd simply find out from High Command in a few hours.

"I invaded what Hell would be if it actually existed. The usual countermeasures will be utterly futile." Ruergan's hands tightened around the steering wheel.

"Then what do you suggest, Colonel?" He said through clenched teeth. Tanya gazed out the window, no longer surprised at the cold, overcast skies and the sparse white flakes that fell from them despite the current month. She idly fiddled with a stray lock of hair blackened by soil and gunpowder.

"My Battalion was defeated by an enemy far stronger than anything we've yet seen. However, we did come close to pushing through their defenses. If we are to find victory, we must be willing to use a method as costly as it is unorthodox." She said, turning back to face a particularly tense Ruegan.

"And what would that be?" He said under bated breath. Tanya's expression steeled.

"An all-or-nothing gambit. If High Command were to dispatch every active and reserve Mage unit in the Empire for one direct assault, it may be possible to overwhelm the enemy." Ruergan placed a free hand to his face, eyes fixed on the road ahead. Turning the corner of a road lined with panicked civilians, he sighed.

"And if this assault fails?" Tanya nodded and tightened her grip around her broken firearm.

"Then the Empire falls and everything is lost."

* * *

Ozpin regarded the small blonde with an arched eyebrow. Immortality had long since precluded surprises, but the sight of a child soldier in the foreign Empire's ranks was, at the very least, interesting. She was dressed in the same type of uniform as her superiors in both age and rank seated beside her, indicating that she was at least somewhat comparable to them in terms of authority and need-to-know.

With lips parted slightly upwards, the girl extended a hand. "I am Lieutenant Colonel Tanya Dugurechaff, commander of the 203rd Mage Battalion. Welcome to the Empire." Leaning forwards, Ozpin took her hand.

"I am Professor Ozpin of Beacon Academy. It is good to meet such friendly faces in such a faraway place." It was good that she'd offered greetings first. Ozpin had been concerned that any overly forward move on his behalf would appear suspicious, and the establishment of positive relations was imperative. That aside, he was able to confirm the theory swirling in his head ever since Colonel Dugurechaff had walked through the door. He'd sensed it before, but physical contact had all but confirmed it.

What was this girl, to possess an unlocked Aura when no others in the entire Empire appeared to hold such privilege? He maintained a neutral expression as she retrieved a pocket sized notebook from her battle dress. Notes regarding her most recent bout with his oldest enemy, likely taken during retreat. She flipped the worn green cover over to revel characters all but foreign to him. Yet another perplexing puzzle, how two alien empires could understand one another's speech without also comprehending their written language.

"If I may begin," Seated to her left, General Zettour nodded.

"Approximately twenty-two hours ago, the 203rd Mage Battalion was assailed by unknown foes while investigating reports of the entire northern seaboard disappearing overnight. After repelling all hostiles, I received orders to further investigate the threat." General Zettour's expression hardened, to Ozpin's surprise. He'd seen that face on military leaders closer to him, namely Ironwood. It was the face of a commander who understood that he'd made a costly mistake.

"During the expedition northward, we encountered and terminated dozens of hostile entities before reaching a fortress-like structure. Calculations made by Lieutenant Nuemann reveal that the structure is exactly 37 miles north-northwest of the Empire's old border, and 267 from this capital." Ozpin scratched the table with a free index finger. An expedition with an equal number of his finest Huntsmen almost certainly would have failed well before reaching Salem's fortress, and most definitely never would have returned with so few casualties. Just what were these soldiers capable of, and how were they so full of magic? Ozpin knew such questions would only rouse further suspicion, much to his dismay. He would need to remain patient to get the answers he was looking for.

Colonel Dugurechaff took a white porcelain cup from the table, pausing her report as she poured a hot colored liquid from a nearby container. Ozpin regarded her movements carefully. On the surface, she appeared as the perfect soldier: well mannered, competent, and willing to lead. But Ozpin could often tell when someone was putting on an act: a jerk of the arm just a bit too quick here, a fist clenched a little too tightly there. It took a deceptive person to recognize deceit, after all. Not to mention, her Aura, the manifestation of her soul... why had it felt so cold, yet boiling so with rage?

She returned the cup to the oak table and set her eyes on her notebook. "I ordered that the structure be destroyed via long-range bombardment. However, we were engaged by about a dozen alien hostiles much more powerful in comparison to their allies. It was by these foes that the 203rd first took casualties. If it were not for Lieutenant Seberyakov's quick thinking, it is likely that we would have sustained many more." General Rudersdorf nodded, eyes fixed away.

"Her bravery has been noted, Colonel Dugurechaff. I will personally see that her efforts are awarded." He said, taking a note in a large leather back. With a nod, she continued,

"That aside, I would like to discuss the enemy most dangerous to the Empire as it currently stands. Neither myself nor my Battalion was able to acquire a visual on them, but we most certainly felt their magical prowess. Within a few seconds, they had summoned a spell comparable to the strongest volley my entire Battalion can muster. In order to preserve the Empire's assets, I was forced to overload Prototype 95. I sincerely apologize for its loss." General Zettour waved the comment away, saying, "Prototype 95 is irrelevant compared to the asset you and your Battalion represent to the Empire. A replacement will be commissioned; however, we will need to equip you with an inferior product until it is finished." Ozpin caught sight of a shift in Dugurechaff's expression, but it vanished as soon as it came. It almost seemed like... contempt? Hatred, perhaps not towards any soul currently seated at the table, but if not them, then who?

"Depleted of both ammunition and magical energy, I was forced to order the 203rd to fall back to HQ. In total, casualties sustained were 12 wounded, four severely, and two killed in action. While the mission to destroy the enemy headquarters was unsuccessful, I am hopeful the Empire can use the intelligence we gathered to counterattack successfully." Zettour placed a hand on his chin. While reading others was something the headmaster was quite used too, he found that particular General almost as difficult to understand as his petite subordinate. The man to his left currently grasping a teacup to the point of cracking was quite the opposite: a clear appetite for not war itself, but the victory that lay beyond. Quite like his old friend in Atlas, he thought.

"Thank you for your report, Colonel Degurechaff. I'm sure you have many questions, but if I understand, you've been awake for over 28 hours. If you'd like to get some rest, we would be willing to brief you on our own findings at a later time." The girl shook her head.

"Thank you for you offer, General Zettour, but that can wait. I have some questions for our guests." Ozpin steeled himself. Even without the ability to sense Aura, it was readily apparent that he was walking into less of a friendly discussion and more of an interrogation in disguise. One small slip up could mean the end of positive relations, and judging by how many war machines he'd seen just while walking in, such an outcome would be more than disastrous.

It would be apocalyptic.

"Very well, Colonel. Ask away." Ozpin's furrowed his brow as the girl looked into his eyes. She was searching for something, a sign of intent or malice, but he was determined to show neither. Much larger things were depending on this conversation than a successful tea time.

"Firstly," She began, folding her hands over the table. "What do you know of this enemy?"

An open-ended question, perhaps innocent on all accounts, perhaps designed to lure him into a false sense of security. If he gave her too little to work with, it would be clear that something was being hidden. If he gave too much, well, guns may be rasied faster than his cane.

"As I have briefed the Generals," he said, gesturing to the two men sitting tall in their velvet chairs, "they are called creatures of Grimm, physical manifestations of malice and strife. They are fiercely attracted to any human exuding negative emotions, and the denser the population, the more determined they become." Degurecahff nodded, sipping gingerly on a second cup of tea before continuing,

"While such fantasy lies radically outside of the reality that I am used to operating within, I can accept it based on what I have seen with my own eyes. Tell me, then, why these Grimm are so powerful as to gain ground against the Empire, while simultaneously failing to annihilate all other lifeforms in this world." She looked back into his eyes and Ozpin still could find nothing behind those blue discs.

"Humanity has congregated within four separate Kingdoms, Vale, Minstrel, Atlas, and Vacuo. Each of these is rather small in population, but what centers exist are guarded by the Huntsmen, warriors imbued with rigorous training and powerful abilities. Despite their prowess, we have only succeeded in protecting what little remains. The world outside the Kingdoms is controlled by the Grimm." Her eyes narrowed, and Ozpin's did in turn.

"I see. If these Grimm were merely wild, uncontrolled beasts, then your explanation would stand against scrutiny. However, one thing remains perplexing." Ozpin's hand tightened around his thigh.

"According to my investigation, there is a central authority uniting these creatures, and a powerful one at that. How is it, then, that such a stalemate can persist for so long? If I understand, your entire society revolves around this war being a fact of life. I find it logically impossible that one side has failed to overwhelm the other for as long as it would take for that to be the truth."

Ozpin held back a grimace. If only this child hadn't been so bold as to pierce the heart of _her _domain. He had few cards left to play, few half-truths that would sound convincing. He would have to give much more ground than originally planned merely to remain in the game.

"Who controls the Grimm? Who is the true enemy?" Her mouth remained neutral, but tired eyes failed to hid the peculiar emotion within. Ozpin placed a hand on his cane once more. Those eyes... why were they smiling? Why were they so alive?

Why were they victorious? Yet, a response was needed. He braced himself for the inevitable.

"Not much is known about _her_. Whispers in the dark, quiet words spoken in bleak alleys between Huntsmen who've seen things they'd rather forget. A name uttered by few; most wouldn't recognize it if spoken aloud, but those who can would shiver. She is an ancient enemy, one immensely powerful and solely determined to wipe humanity from the face of Remnant."

"Her name is Salem." He finished, sweat beading his brow. Just for a moment, he saw it. The flash of white, the upturn of lips, a smile that was not a smile. The face of someone who won. Yet Ozpin still struggled to find out just what game had been played, and what victory this Tanya Degurechaff reviled. Glancing to his side, he found a taught Glynda barely holding onto composure, like himself.

"Salem. How interesting." She pushed her high-backed chair, hopping to the carpet below with a muffled thud. Turning to face her superior, she offered a crisp salute, saying, "That concludes my questions, sir. With your permission, I will now retire to my quarters." She flashed a quick smile before continuing, "As you say, I am quite exhausted." General Zettour smiled, saluting in kind.

"Very well, Colonel. I believe we've all discussed quite enough for today, anyway. It was good to meet you, Professor Ozpin and Miss Glynda. I hope we can speak again very soon. My men will escort you back to your airship." The two generals rose from their seats, and the Professor and his associate did likewise.

"I thank you again for treating us foreigners to such a warm welcome. I look forward to our next meeting." Ozpin said as two armed guards pushed through the door, waiting patiently. So much for privacy. He sighed, supposing that the General had upheld his word. After all, no guards had technically been stationed _inside _the conference chamber.

But the true threat was walking past those armed men, more of a mop of blonde hair glued to a child's body than something that _should_ have been taken seriously. Yet, Ozpin shivered at just what kind of person, no, what kind of monster lay hidden behind that calm facade. Anyone or anything that could engage his ex-wife in armed combat and survive was not to be trifled with.

_Perhaps old Ironwood's assistance will come in handy, after all._

* * *

A step out the door, down a winding hallway and outside to the chill air underneath a warm sun. Tanya had been waiting, and her patience had payed off with interest. She could wait no longer. The smile exploded onto her lips as she took a deep breath in, feeling the coldness swirl in her lungs. The gray haired, self-proclaimed diplomat had been cautious, there was no doubt, but she already had the cards she'd needed to win, and win she did.

Salem. A name she already knew, the name of the individual Being X wanted dead. There were still many questions left unanswered, to be sure, such as why Being X had broken his normal operating procedure to intervene in reality so directly. Tanya, however, doubted that Professor Ozpin would be willing to answer much more than he had already, and to press the old man might mean more complications down the road. For now, the Devil had what she needed. So, with a skip in her step and a smile on her lips, she galloped down the worn steps leading to Strategic HQ, mind flooded with possible theories.

_So this Salem is something of an antagonist, a being directly opposed to order and normalcy in this strange world. In an odd way, I can relate. The question is: why is Being X so determined to see her dead? Is it a past grudge? Spite? Perhaps Salem is something like myself, opposed in some way to His plans. Perhaps Being X is culling her due to her defiance. _

_Regardless, I will require more information before I continue. _She turned her head to the blue sky, finding no clouds to obscure her vision.

_I will discover the rules behind this game, Being X, and I will break them._


	8. Ignescent

The first thing she felt was a searing hotness in her gut. Unable to open heavy eyes, she ordered her limbs to move. As the invisible knife twisted in her stomach, she found her arms unwilling to comply and her legs virtually nonexistent. The steel haze in her muddled mind was already quite enough to leave her incapacitated. The feeling of something boiling her insides alive left her unable to do anything but despair in silence, surrounded by inky blackness.

A single word pierced through the pain. _Fight_.

She was better than this. She'd trained harder, and had been instructed by the best their was.

_I'm not dying here. I swore an oath. I will _not _die here. _

She focused on the sharp, stabbing pain in her stomach, bracing against the ever worsening agony. If her body would not comply to her mind's orders, then it must be forced to react by a stronger stimulus. A trick her superior had taught her back at the Academy, back when life had been difficult yet simple. A finger twitched, and she felt a momentary burst of relief. The pain was worse than any other she could recall. She'd fear the threat of impending death if she wasn't so afraid of what her superior might think if she perished in such an asinine manner.

Another twitch, this time a toe. So she did still have legs, a small fortune. A muscle in her face contracted, and she held onto the momentary feeling with everything that remained. She felt her lips, dry and chapped. She ran a mangled tongue across sour teeth. Finally, she opened her mouth.

"Help...please." The words slipped out low, more of a hum than speech. She tired again, only for something slick to lodge in her throat, perhaps excess mucus or bile. The desperation only worsened. How long had it been since she'd felt such raw fear? How long ago was the last time she felt this agonizing despair?

Such helplessness?

A flash of decay. A gray sky. No sun. Cold. An image of a building. A picture of a house. Fire. The sound of gunfire and the smell of discharged powder. Trapped. Not alone. She held her in her arms. She was cold. It was so cold.

Another unwelcome feeling surged through her blood. It was hot. How long had it been since she felt it? Fingernails bit into her palm. Heat spread across her hands. She remembered the cold, and couldn't forget her.

Rage.

Out of her mouth, a scream tore the chill air asunder. Her eyes flew open. A barrage of colors slammed into her retinas, and she blinked through hot wetness. The agony boiling in her gut returned with vengeance, and she continued to wail. Her eyes couldn't adjust, not with the constant stream of liquid pouring down her face. Something quiet within urged her to calm down, but nothing could overpower the sheer volume of pain that refused to cease.

As if distant, the sound of something solid falling to the ground pierced through her cries, followed by the rapid pitter-patter of steps. Something warm grabbed her hand, and she tried to turn her head to see, only to be frozen by a sharp ache in her neck. The something squeezed her hand as if it thought it might fall away if it stopped. Finally, words made it through her mind's haze.

"Visha!" A face swirled to her right, still somewhat fuzzy. She blinked the tears away, and the familiar features of Captain Weiss stabilized in her vision. His teeth were barred as he repeated her name. Her words were choked by the agony refusing to lessen in her gut, the tears beginning to fill her dry eyes yet again. The captain took a glance to his left, his eyes widening.

"Goddammit," he began, releasing Visha's hand as he darted out from her line of sight. "how the _hell _did it end up like this?" The sound of rough hands fiddling with stubborn plastic filled the room as Weiss toiled at whatever problem lay just out of her sight. She tried to rotate her head once more, only for that all too familiar stabbing pain to shoot up her back.

"Don't move, Lieutenant." The order was curt, but the captain was betrayed by the panic and confusion boiling through every last syllable. Visha was used to seeing her superior put on airs of authority and calm control, as was dictated by his rank and responsibility. It wasn't often that a situation managed to pierce that veil, let alone to such a degree that he'd resort to using foul language in front of a subordinate.

With a grunt, _something_ snapped back into place from behind her head. The sound of hands patting against leather filled her ears as the captain stepped back into view.

"I apologize for that, Lieutenant. You must be hurting." She was, there was no doubt. Visha, however, understood the importance of displaying her ability to battle through the worst kinds of pain and put on the best smile she could muster. She hoped the captain wasn't looking particularly close at how her lips trembled, at how tight her teeth seemed to gnash together.

"I'll live, Captain." She rasped, throat practically lined with sandpaper. Weiss sighed as he placed a hand to his forehead.

"Don't put on airs for me, Visha. Now is not the time." He began, eyes falling to the ground.

"You almost died. Twice, if I recall. Docs just shook their heads before I could ask about your odds." His expression hardened.

"Not that it matters anymore. I won't harp on it. I'm sure you have questions." She did, to her surprise. She hadn't noted her own thoughts due to the pain, but now, to her relief, that stabbing agony was starting to melt away. She could finally act like a soldier again. She glanced to the plastic tube protruding from the inside of her elbow. An IV drip was never a sign of good health. The captain acknowledged her wordless question with a grimace.

"That thing was _supposed _to be supplying your body with morphine, but somehow ended up tangled at the base. I sincerely apologize for my failure to recognize the problem sooner." Visha grinned as best she could.

"It's okay, Captain. Really. I'm fine now." Weiss didn't meet her eyes.

"If you insist." He sighed, pulling a wooden stool up to Visha's side. He sat hunched over like a gargoyle, eyes sunken and brow heavy. Visha could tell by the lone orange lamp flickering in the side of the room that the day they'd spent in battle was long gone. How long had it been since her superior had slept? Straining, he clasped clammy hands together and found the strength to look into her eyes.

"Anything in particular you'd like to get filled in on first?" Visha's eyebrows curled as she dredged up recent memories from a foggy sea of still images. They'd come under attack by monsters, no, _a _monster possessing power unlike any human past or present. Her body had moved before her mind caught up to it, and the last thing she could recall was a mop of blonde hair dirtied by soot and ash. The words left her mouth before she recognized them.

"Is the Colonel-"

"She's alright. I thought you might inquire about her condition. It's sort of strange, actually. While the rest of us were on the verge of collapsing on the tarmac, she seemed just as robust as ever, if not even more so than usual. I suppose that's just the Colonel for you." Visha sighed. _Of course the Colonel's okay,_ she thought. _She's stronger than any of us._

"Then..." she began, voice lowered, "...was the mission successful?" Captain Weiss frowned, and the girl felt her heart drop into her toes.

"No. We failed to destroy the target. Additionally, we suffered eight casualties: two dead, six wounded, including yourself. We lost Corporal Leidenhart and Sergeant Herntz." Visha winced. Those two were from her Company. They were good soldiers. They didn't deserve this. She clenched her hands and almost didn't feel nails digging breaking through the skin.

"I'm so sorry." Weiss said quietly. "There's nothing I can say that will make that pain go away. All I can do is help you fight for what remains." Almost robotically, Captain Weiss reached into his coat's pocket and retrieved a small black book. He opened the cover and said,

"This is a summation of the situation, provided by the Colonel herself. Given that you won't be going anywhere, how would you like an in-depth brief?" Visha smiled, her eyes finally completing the gesture for the first time that late evening.

"That would be perfect, sir. I really appreciate it." At last, she would be able to understand just what she'd gotten into. Better still, given the Colonel's reputation, she'd soon learn of the plan of counterattack. If there was one thing that blonde soldier excelled at, it was completing the mission with just the right amount of prejudice. In this situation, however, Visha wasn't sure if there was an upper limit to the retaliation these monsters were due.

* * *

"You said you wanted to see me?" Tanya stood in the doorway opening into the main research laboratory stationed within the Capitol. She swallowed as she finished the question and tensed. No matter how often she had the distinct displeasure of meeting with the walking disaster towering over her, she could never get quiet used to his... peculiar personality traits.

Propelled either by propriety or insanity, Developmental Engineer-in-Chief Adelheid von Schugel gripped Tanya's hand such that she feared it might be missing when he eventually let go. "Ah, if it isn't the legendary Lieutenant Colonel Dugurechaff, in the flesh! I am beyond elated to have the opportunity to work with you once more." Tanya summoned what remained of her discipline to soften the scowl spreading across her features.

"Yes. It's a pleasure." A trained response, one begotten of many troublesome meetings with inadequate employees of a life gone by. Finally, the mad scientist released the small girl from his death grip, turning to reenter the main research center of the facility.

"Well, if you would be so kind as to follow me, I can begin my initial rounds of testing posthaste. There is much work to do, and not much time left to do it, I'm afraid." The scientist stormed away and Tanya followed from a distance. Despite some lingering dregs of curiosity, Tanya never bothered much with the scientifically impossible inventions strewn about the workplace. Some attendants wearing the same pale lab coats as their superior busied themselves with dangerous looking prototypes while others cleaned the results of failed attempts. This atmosphere suited her almost as neatly as the battlefield: controlled, professional, and above all, logical in nature. However, one singular entity accounted for most of her reasons as to why she rarely entered the compound.

"You know, Colonel Dugurechaff, recent events have had a profound impact on the environment here in the Capitol, and I don't just mean physical. While monsters surge across our border to the north and a sea laps at the base of mountain ranges to the south, the military and civilian populous alike are looking to big wigs like us for answers. I, for one, don't believe any will be found using the standard scientific method, at least not in the short term." Adelheid rounded a corner and pushed through a door, revealing a smaller chamber, its walls lined with scientific gear practically alien to the Colonel. Towards the far end lay an instrument that Tanya could recognize. To the average civilian, seeing one in public meant that the military was in need of Mages, and that your town might be short one or two young men or women come the following day.

Adelheid slapped the metal exterior of the machine and smiled. "For now, all I can do as a believer is follow the guidance God so graciously provides." Tanya rolled her eyes.

"And what insight has it _bestowed_ upon you now?" She crossed her arms. For whom she considered to be a zealous fool, the mad scientist was an expert in his field. Prototype 95 had been his greatest creation, and while some not-so-divine intervention had been needed to get it to work properly, Adelheid was responsible for its initial development. He continued to espouse the greatness of the Being she despised, much to her chagrin, but also provided results. As long as he remained useful, Tanya supposed that she could continue to bare with his religious eccentricity.

The mad scientist adjusted his monocle and breathed in. Tanya braced herself. "With my eyes now opened, I can see more than just mere answers to ordinary questions; I can find the questions that need answering. In this desperate hour, High Command wants nothing more than mere answers: 'what are these monsters', 'why are the stars in the wrong place,' and so much more pointless drivel. The big questions require more time to answer, and time is not on our side. The smaller questions, the ones that _can _be answered before the clock strikes twelve... those are what God has revealed to this sinner." Adelheid turned his chin up, as if to converse with the ceiling. Tanya tapped a foot against the rough concrete floor.

"The small question that _needs _answering... have you even asked it yourself, Colonel Dugurechaff?" Tanya failed to halt the scowl forming on her face. She never should've indulged this walking disaster in his maddened fantasies. There were countless other tasks that needed attending, so many better ways she could be spending her time. Yet, she couldn't convince the tiny grip of curiosity in her mind to let go. For the deluded man he was, Adelheid knew how to make people interested in the services he could provide; most importantly, the questions he could answer.

"Get to the point." She spat, approaching the steel hulk of a device before her. To the untrained eye, it seemed just like a standard magical potential reader capable of normal functions. Experience with the madman chuckling next to her ensured her of otherwise.

"I thought not. That's why it's up to me, as God's chief ambassador in this late hour, to ask it. Colonel Dugurechaff, how is it you returned unharmed and, as eyewitnesses report, unexhausted after a mission that cost the lives of two of your men? Do not mistake my intentions. I understand the extent of your latent magical prowess more than most. However, similar to how it was impossible to utilize Prototype 95 without His divine blessing, your healthy condition cannot be a result of your ability alone." His hands flew across the steel control panel of the device, and after a button pushed here and a lever pulled there, it whirred to life. Tanya's eyes narrowed. She already knew the answer to this small question, at least in part. Time, however, had precluded her from exploring the full truth further.

The scientist took hold of the blackish headpiece dangling from the machine and gestured. "Let us discover the answer together." Tanya scowled at his familiar expression. There was little she hated more than being someone's lab rat, whether a man's or self-proclaimed God's. Yet, the question continued to swirl in her mind. If she refused to find the answer, she was sure valuable sleep would be lost.

"Very well. Let's proceed as quickly as possible." She said, hopping gingerly into a seat designed for someone of taller stature. Adelheid affixed the headpiece in place and stepped back, clapping his hands together.

"Oh, the thrill of the pursuit of knowledge! We are truly blessed today, for I am sure that God is watching over our work and guiding our hands." Tanya grunted. His incessant ramblings were causing her stomach to turn. The sooner the rational answer to her rapid recovery was found, the sooner she could remove herself from his toxic presence. As the seconds trudged by, the machine whirred louder, unsecured pieces clanging into one another as it vibrated with power. The headpiece above glowed with blue essence, and the scientist smile widened as he observed the machine's data readout panel.

"As expected, your base magical potential far exceeds the known average. That, however, is not what I am searching for. No, the answer we seek will be found in territory yet unexplored, in powers above mankind's current understanding. During the final testing phase of Prototype 95, your vital signs and magical frequencies were closely monitored. There was a moment just before it would've gone out of control where an irregularity was detected, and the data stored. I am searching for something within you that matches that moment." A button was pressed, and some keys entered into the control panel. The machine's constant whir grew to a deep growl as it shook like tree in a hurricane. Tanya braced herself against the metal rods holding it in place and grit her teeth.

Adelheid's fingers flew across the dashboard as he toiled, sweat dripping down his chin. "There it is, I can see it! I must isolate the unknown energy source before it slips away." Images flew past her mind's eye: a Lieutenant no longer herself, a Being using her for its own devices, a hand pressed against her heart. The words he spoke, binding her will in wrought iron chains to an inexcusable fate.

_Being X spoke of 'releasing my soul'. Yet, I am bound now more than ever. In that other world, I was his court jester, giving a part of myself to a fruitless endeavor for its own amusement. Now I have been made its pawn, existing only to carry out an ultimate purpose. _

Her eyes darkened. A warmth sprouted in her body, starting in her core and spreading to her fingers. The heat intensified as she closed her eyes, the flashes unwanted emotions interrupting normal thought processes. A twisted girl. A lost Battalion. The fruit of her toils turned to dust before unbelievable power. She clenched her fists.

_I will crush your will under my own. I shall be free._

"Eureka! I've successfully isolated the signature. It's unlike anything I've ever seen. Praise be to God above!" Tanya's eyes flew open. Her vision locked on a new light source, one blanketing the room in a fierce golden glow. Eyes wide, she lifted her hand. Golden energy shimmered across pale skin, like ocean ripples at sunset. She felt its power, unlike any magic she'd yet experienced. Instead of an ability that was harnessed by certain Mages, this new energy felt as though it truly belonged to her, like it was as much a part of her as the hand it covered.

Tanya smirked. _Your avarice betrays you as always, Being X. I will destroy your cruel reality with the very tools you've bestowed to create it. _


	9. Interdiction

"Why am I not surprised?" His study smelled of stale coffee and worn paper, signs of a Headmaster who'd sacrificed many a sleepless night to his work. He and his trusted associate had landed near Beacon Tower with the hope of some time to decompress. However, the scruffy man stuffed in a pristine uniform showed no signs of allowing such pleasentries.

"Good evening, General. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Ozpin sighed, moving closer to his desk, where the immovable General Ironwood stood with arms crossed. He growled deeply, like he always would when frustrated or disappointed, which was probably why he made such odd vocalizations so often.

"You _owe _me an explanation. I thought we were in agreement, Ozpin. I thought you'd be the one to listen to reason. Then, low and behold, I find you and Miss Goodwitch going against my requests on your own little diplomatic mission to a foreign military power. Why would you put so much at risk... everything we've done, everything we've built..." Ironwood's fists clenched. Ozpin raised a hand before the General could finish exploding, saying,

"Hold on, James. I don't remember agreeing to anything specific, and I certainly never signed one of your contracts. I conducted myself as I always have: in a manner that will ensure the best chance of survival, for us and the rest of Remnant as a whole. A quiet meeting between those with cooler heads was far more productive than a clash of military leaders and their insufferable egos could ever have been." Ironwood raised a hand to his forehead as Ozpin found some comfort in his high backed office chair. It was clear to the Headmaster that his old friend was more tense than he'd seen him in some years. His face was unkempt, with little black strands of hair poking out of his chin and neck. His normally energetic eyes were dark and sunken. Ozpin knew that it would take diplomatic tact on par with his performance in the Empire to calm him down.

He rubbed his eyes and continued, saying, "I value your insight more than most, James. I merely could not risk soured relations with a foreign entity of such great military power. Please understand." Ironwood shook his head, placing his hands on the edge of Ozpin's desk.

"No, I can't understand. Who do you think you are, Professor? What kind of authority do you, Headmaster of a school for children, possess? Who appointed you as chief diplomat? Not Vale's leaders, not the other Headmasters, and certainly not me. We're supposed to work together in times of crisis, not set off on our own whimsical adventures." The General sealed his rant with a rapped fist against the desk, knocking a cup of Ozpin's favorite pens to the ground. The Headmaster nodded, looking straight into the fuming man's tired eyes.

"You're right. I've overstepped my bounds. However, it's not the first time I've taken advantage of my limited autonomy, and you know as well as I do that it won't be the last. Like you, I do whatever it takes to accomplish the mission at hand." Ozpin finished with another sigh, desperate for some relief in the form of a caffeinated beverage. He shot a glance over to his associate. Glydna, for her part, seemed to be biting at the bit for an opportunity to provide her own two-cents on the matter. Ozpin made a slight gesture with his head, and Glydna stepped forward to face the furious General.

Hands on her hips, she proclaimed, "This pissing contest has gone on for long enough. Do you think the enemy cares about who's right and who's wrong? Right now, forces of Grimm are laying waste to an Empire with a population far exceeding both Vale and Atlas's combined. What do you think they'll do if and _when _they believe all is lost?" Ozpin leaned back in his chair, any semblance of pride erased. Ironwood took a precarious step back, and his expression softened. For a taut moment, silence reigned in the Headmaster's study, only interrupted by the occasional ticking of mechanical machinations strewn about. Taking advantage of his opening, Ozpin began quietly,

"Glynda's assessment of the situation is accurate. Human beings, like any animal, have two main instinctual reactions when it comes to dealing with threats. If they have the means, they will fight the opposing force. However, should they exhaust their means or be overcome by fear, they will flee. In this occasion, James, where do you think those people and their armies will run?" Ironwood turned his chin to the floor and scowled.

"That is why I took responsibility for diplomatic relations. Promising to send trained Huntsmen and Huntresses as aid will elicit far less of a fear response than if you were to waltz in with your army in tow. It's not that I don't appreciate your assistance. Should Salem gain the upper hand in this war, I fear that it will become absolutely vital." Ozpin concluded with a wave of his hand, eyeing the General closely.

"Who's to say she doesn't already have it?" The trio snapped their heads towards the source of the question, and the raggedy man leaning against a support column who'd asked it. Qrow Bronwen retrieved a steel flask from his side, taking a deep swig of the potent contents.

"What? Am I not allowed a spot in this pleasant debate?" He said, leaving the flask in one hand as he approached his colleagues. Ironwood's nose wrinkled at the sharp twang of strong spirits permeating Qrow's entire person.

"Listen," he began, switching his gaze between the two of them. "the way I see it, both of you are in the wrong, and neither of you fully understand just what _is _at stake here. This ain't got nothin' to do with _if_ Salem's got the upper hand, but _how_ she intends to capitalize on her advantage. This right here, this pointless bickering, is exactly what she needs to do just that." Qrow brought the lip of the flask to his mouth again, finding only hot air and spare droplets, much to his chagrin. He grunted as he set the empty container upon Ozpin's desk, earning a raised eyebrow from the Headmaster.

"And what do you think she intends to do with this advantage, Mr. Branwen?" Ozpin asked with a lowered voice. Qrow nodded his head,

"Glad you asked. Think about it, Ozpin. I'm sure you remember your old friend... I sure as hell can't recall his name though. Big dude, brown hair, nasty attitude…"

Ozpin frowned as he finished Qrow's line of thought, "Hazel?" Qrow snapped his fingers, eyes widening.

"Yeah, that piece of work. Anyway, after you two had your falling out, I recall that he was quick to join up with her, almost too quick. I don't think he went out his way to find her. Either of you catching my drift?" James' expression steeled.

"I can't say I am, Branwen. Get to the point." Ironwood said, earning a sigh from the Huntsman. He placed a hand on his forehead and wished for another flask to materialize in his hand.

"The point is that Salem's not afraid of making alliances when it suits her. She'll do whatever it takes to secure victory, even if it means hiring or otherwise coercing those she believes to be inferior to her side." Ozpin's eyes widened. He retrieved his cane as he rose from the chair, striding closer to his old compatriot. He frowned as he began,

"I believe I understand what you're getting at, Qrow. Truthfully, the idea has been trapped in my head ever since we first met with their leaders. I'd merely been afraid of entertaining it anymore than necessary, but circumstances are growing dire." Ozpin turned to face the old General, whose face was still locked in a semi-perplexed expression.

"Tell me, James, what would be a better action for Salem to undertake? Continue to fight an open war with a nation a hostile magic-users, or perhaps take a more... diplomatic approach?" Ironwood's visage drained of color as his eyes widened. He placed a hand to his rough chin and turned away.

"You can't be insinuating what I think you are. That's impossible." Ozpin rounded on the General, forcing the tired man to look back into his eyes.

"I am quite serious. There is no time left to argue over petty nonsense. If my Huntsmen can make a notable difference in this war, then the tragedy that knocks on our door will be avoided." He sighed and turned towards the exit of his study, eyes heavy. He'd thought years of learning how to deal with stress would help him now, but he found his heart beating and brain screaming as if he was actively fighting Salem herself. In a way, he supposed, he was. This millennia long conflict had always been his responsibility and his alone.

The tired man waited in the stillness of his old study for a few moments, trying to gather what remained of his scattered thoughts. From behind, an equally exhausted voice pierced through his ears. "In a way, you are right, Ozpin. There is no time left for weakness. If we are to survive, we must continue to be strong, and our enemies must feel that strength." General Ironwood passed Ozpin as he moved for the elevator, eyes forward. The Headmaster's blood ran cold.

"Now who's the one being reckless, James? Have you been so blinded by hubris as to think that your armies will be any more successful against the Grimm than the Empire's?" Ozpin yelled, a fist balling together and eyes alight with indignation. Ironwood halted in front of the elevator, placing a hand against the control panel. He turned his head back.

_Those eyes, _Ozpin thought_, are all too familiar._

"No. For the first time, I can see clearly the depth of hypocrisy permeating every word that oozes out of your mouth. You expect me to uphold your simple-minded standards of transparency and non-intervention while you go behind my back and forge alliances with snakes?" Ironwood stepped into the elevator, leaving his back turned to the silent Huntsmen and Huntress.

"You've gone too far this time, Ozpin." The doors slammed shut.

_All too familiar, indeed._

* * *

"Why the fuck is it so cold?" The black sky overhead provided no light. Obscured by thick clouds, the steadfast image of the moon could give no comfort to the tired soldier, his post only lilluminated by the dim, artificial orange glow of a nearby lamppost. His orders were simple: guard one of the gates leading into the pavilion that contained the Empire's Strategic Headquarters. He'd did his job without incedent for some months since his transfer from the Eastern Front. In truth, the guard counted his blessings for that. Better here, standing idly beside a gate nobody really used than being ripped to shreds by the demons just to the north.

Still, it _was _fucking cold, with tiny white puffs of snow descending upon his head every now and again.

"Couldn't tell ya, Sarge. Bet it has somethin' to do with the monsters showin' up, and all that. Me mum says that it's God judgement for the world's sins, but that don't make much sense. I just confessed last week, after all." The soldier's subordinate said, accent thick with an old country drawl.

"Well, you mind praying and asking God to cut it out? I can't feel my damn fingers." The Sergeant said, flexing his hands in a vain attempt to get some blood flowing. The Private shook his head.

"Don't think it works that way, Sarge." The Sergeant harrumphed, turning back to face down the cobblestone path. He squinted as a silhouette turned the corner, rounding about a scraggly tree. Hidden underneath a black cloak as they were, the soldier could make out little details, aside from a peculiar hunch protruding from their backside. The figure's meandering approach gave the pair enough time to ready their firearms across their chest, prepared to escalate their posture further should the stranger do the same. Even so, the figure did not appear swayed. Gulping, the Sergeant raised a free hand to them.

"Halt. Show identification, please." He commanded. The figure took one last step before coming to a stop, facial features obscured underneath a hood. They revealed empty hands to the two soldiers and said,

"Friends, friends, I mean you no harm. I am merely searching for someone whom my superior regards as... important. Perhaps you could lend some assistance?" The Sergeant shot a glance at his companion. The Private tightened his grip on his rifle and swallowed.

"I'm afraid this isn't the entrance for the Guest Center. You may have missed it. First left after you pass the bank, big signs pointing the way in. Ring any bells?" The Sergeant said, putting on a smile that didn't reach his eyes. The stranger chuckled as he rubbed his palms together.

"No, I'm afraid you misunderstand. Or perhaps the onus is on me for failing to convey my meaning properly. Hm, a question for another day, for another day." The Sergeant blinked. By the time his eyelids reopened, the figure had lurched forward, the protrusion on its backside suddenly growing larger. His response was automatic. He moved to train his sights on the hostile, but the distance was closed far too quickly. As something glossy and elongated revealed from under their coat, the Sergeant's heart dropped. His reaction was _too_ robotic, he'd gone for his rifle without considering how close the enemy was. Now, no time remained to draw either his sidearm or his combat knife.

_"I'm fucked."_

A shout exploded to the Sergeant's left. He watched as the stranger tossed their cloak in that direction, revealing a mangled husk of what appeared to be a man. The Sergeant couldn't help but gaze at the man's strange tail-like appendage even as it was pointed at his skull. If he had decided to finish his strike, the Sergeant was sure he'd be another corpse buried under the cold soil. The enemy's attention, however, was preoccupied with his subordinate.

"What the hell?" The Private yelled, finger pulling back on the trigger of his rifle. The stranger was nimble, however, and dashed underneath its barrel in the blink of an eye. With a smile, he jabbed an open palm at the underside of the muzzle, causing the weapon to jerk up and out of the Private's grip. As the rifle spun to the earth, unfired, the man chuckled. The unadulterated madness dancing in his eyes froze the young man in place. Even as the Sergeant pulled his sidearm from its leather holster, the half-man half-monster placed the curved tip of its alien tail to the Private's throat.

"Oh, there's no need for that. I'm sure we can come to a more peaceful resolution. What's the word my Mistress used... ah, _negotiation_, that's it." The stranger said, pressing its tail further into the Private's exposed neck. The young man swallowed a fearful glob of bile and recoiled at the stabbing pain. The Sergeant held his sights on the enemy's head. He breathed in once, then exhaled. A salty droplet of sweat stung his eye, but he remained as still as a statue. His training, his reflexes, his orders... all of them shouted within his mind at once, all of them urging him to perform the action he was supposed to in unison. His index finger twitched against the cold iron of the handgun's firing system. He knew what he had to do. He narrowed his eyes.

Yet, there was something else. Which voice was this?

His grip relaxed. "Release him. Then we'll talk." The stranger chuckled and clasped his hands together. He stared into the Sergeant's eyes as if prodding for something. Another chuckle.

"Hm, my friend, I'm afraid I can't do that. The moment I let your little buddy off the hook, I'll be fed a mouthful of lead. How about we, _negotiate, _on our current terms?" The Sergeant glanced to his subordinate without thinking. His eyes gazed back, the raw terror of imminent death oozing from his expression. The Sergeant grimaced.

"Fine." The stranger bounced and laughed like a school child who'd been offered a candy bar.

"Excellent! Now, I believe I mentioned that I was searching for someone of a rather specific description. She is a solider of great consequence to your nation's current survival, but more importantly, to my Queen's intentions. Most interestingly, she is but a young child, perhaps no older than twelve. Dearest me, not even the most desperate of militaries or nefarious organizations would recruit such an innocent youth!"

The Sergeant's mind flashed to the image of a blonde child, one he'd saluted at this very gate on more than one occasion. His eyes fell dark. If only he'd never known her. If only he hadn't been posted at this damn gate.

The stranger's mouth curled upwards. "I see we have a winner. So, then, how about we conclude with _negotiations?"_

* * *

Tanya sat upon the rough cushion of an wooden chair far beyond its prime, a hand clutching a hot porcelain cup. Steam wafted from the black liquid and into her nose, the pleasant aroma of her preferred brand sending a small pulse of relief through her worn shoulders. How long had it been since she'd poured herself a cup of this most vital stimulant? It had been long enough that even a small sip felt to her like finding a jug of water in the desert or a blanket in a freezing winter's forest. She allowed herself to lean back slightly, or as much as the worn, awkward furniture underneath her would let her. She'd earned it; after all, who could say they'd been to Hell and back over a long weekend?

She found her eyes falling upon the prone image of her Lieutenant. She'd been asleep for more than eighteen hours now, and from what the doctors concluded, rest would be the most effective medicine towards ensuring a safe recovery. Lieutenant Weiss had been adamant on the Battalion taking shifts to keep a constant watch over her, as the nurses were far too understaffed and overworked to do so. Logically speaking, there was little more they could contribute to Lieutenant Visha's recovery by merely spectating, and much needed rest to be lost by her men. She'd moved to shut the plan down, but a glance into her men's anxious eyes caused her to hesitate for a moment. The asset Lieutenant Visha represented went beyond her combat skills. Her ability to lift the spirits of any disheartened soldier earned her the trust of almost every Mage within her Company, if not the whole Battalion.

Their sentimentalism was understandable, if not illogical, and Tanya concluded that her men would lose far more sleep if the Lieutenant was left uncared for. So, to her troops' wide-eyed gawking, she'd volunteered to take first shift, a watch that was now nearing its end with no incidents. She yawned despite the caffeine coursing through her system, watching as the blanket draped over the Lieutenant rose and fall with each steady breath. Morbid as the thought felt, Tanya found it borderline impossible for her Lieutenant to have fared as well against that overpowered attack as she did. As much as it tore her gut apart to admit, it was only due to Being X's... _assistance, _that her entire Battalion wasn't reduced to a smoldering mound of ashes in the first place.

She'd failed. The thought didn't bring pain, as she assumed did for most other humans. Throughout her short tenure as a child soldier, she'd calculated each and every action she took, bent the orders of her often incompetent superiors to move one step closer towards her goals. Despite insurmountable odds and a game rigged against her by a megalomaniacal self-proclaimed god, she produced results as she always had, in this life or the previous. Failure was something those beneath her were acquainted with.

Not her.

_Or perhaps I've always had something to blame. Whether it be the shortsightedness of my superiors or the interventions of that damned Being, I've always blamed something else. Never myself. _

She shook her head. Such nonsensical thoughts led to nowhere. She was only in this apocalyptic situation in the first place because of Being X's whimsies. Perhaps she really was more tired than she thought.

Draining the remaining dregs of her now lukewarm drink, she sighed as she set her mind on more important matters. Recent reports indicated that the beasts were well beyond the Empire's initially established defensive lines. Vital armories were reduced to ruins, along with the towns and small cities around them. Casualty estimates were inconclusive, but likely well exceeding eight thousand, with civilian casualties exponentially higher. Immediate retaliatory action needed to be taken. Her plan to reengage the enemy in total force was still under the review of High Command, but with the situation as dire as it was, it seemed likely they'd give it the go-ahead.

Her Battalion wouldn't be at full strength, but there simply wasn't enough time left. Every inch of ground given to the storm of beasts was additional time allotted for Salem to enact a greater strategy. Given her immense power and the inherent unknowns therein, any counter-attack would have to be all-out. A swift and decisive victory was all that would be able to be secured, with or without the assistance of the wild-card local known as Professor Ozpin.

It was better for the Empire to secure victory without foreign aid, a sentiment she'd expressly included in her report to High Command. The Empire could not allow itself to become indebted to any outside power, much less an alien Kingdom with unknown intentions. Despite their seeming technological superiority, the Kingdom of Vale could not be allowed to interfere in this matter, even if it was personal, as Ozpin had indicated.

Before anything was done, however, additional information was still required. Too many variables remained, such as this strange new magic that crazed lunatic had discovered within her. She held out an open palm and concentrated. A familiar warmness spread across her hand and danced into each finger, coating the entire appendage in a golden glow. The mad scientist was hesitant to call it magic, as it manifested separate from the power Tanya was familiar with. For the time being, he'd suggested her to "play around" with what he called _"Type-Two Manifestation" _ and see if it provided any positive abilities.

_From what I can tell, though, it appears to only be effective as a second body shield, perhaps imbued with limited regenerative abilities. Helpful, but not a second _Type-95. She thought. She resolved to experiment further, but for the time being, much needed sleep was on the horizon.

A light knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. She glanced at the wooden aperture. Sergeant Grantz had volunteered for next shift, and Tanya was more than happy to allow him to take over and for her to take to her bed. "Enter," She said in a lowered tone. The heavy door creaked open, and a shadowed figure stood against the darkness behind them and the soft glow of Tanya's small candle in front.

_Not the correct height_

Tanya's hand curled around her sidearm as she pulled her arm forward. Before a breath passed between them, she stared down the sights of her handgun at the figure's hidden face.

"Identify yourself immediately or I will open fire." She commanded, trigger half-pulled. She exhaled as the moment elapsed, the unknown person before her remaining silent. Then, as Tanya applied more force to her handgun's trigger, the figure chuckled, the soft glow of the candle illuminating a wide row of teeth.

"Ah, there you are. I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever find you. You wouldn't _believe _how many people I had to ask to get here. Hm, perhaps _ask_ isn't the right word, but nevertheless-" Tanya interrupted the madman's speech as she leapt to her feet, never moving her sights from their head.

"Perhaps you didn't hear me. I will discharge a round into your skull if you fail to state your name and rank within the next five seconds." The figure held up his hands and shook his head.

"Very well, then. My name is Tyrian, and I mean you no harm, truly. I come bearing a message from my Queen, someone you should already be somewhat acquainted with." Tanya growled, the name coming into focus within her tired mind.

"Salem." She spat. The man calling himself Tyrian nodded.

"Precisely. Oh, but I don't think here is a very good place for discussion. Wouldn't want to wake _her_ up too, after all." The man chuckled again, the sound much like chalk grating against a board in her ears.

_Perhaps if I was more awake, he would already be a bloody corpse. As it is, I am still in need of information. Killing him can come after. _

"Very well. I will hear your message in the courtyard. Make a wrong move, and I will not hesitate to kill you. Am I understood?" Tanya said as she moved between Tyrian and the still unconscious Lieutenant. She gestured with her firearm, and Tyrian turned around, hands still raised.

"I do believe so. Oh, what fun indeed!" The half-man, half-monster laughed, and Tanya could only stare with eyes wide open at the scorpion-like tail curled around his back.

_Murphey's Law, how I loathe you._


End file.
